UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 
SAN  DIEGO 


-^' 

THE 


REAL  LIFE. 


. 


BY 

M.  W.  SAVAGE,  ESQ., 

AUTHOR    OP   "  THE   BACHELOR    OF    THE  ALBANY,"    "  MT    UJTCLE   THE 
CURATE,"  ETC, 


NEW- YOKE  : 

A.    A.    KELLEY,    PUBLISHER. 
1860. 


J.  J.  KBED,  PRINTER  &  STEREOTYPES, 
43  &  45  Centre  Street. 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK  THE  FIRST. 

pioa 
CHAPTER  I. 

Birtr  and  curly  education  of  Keuben        .  .  •  .8 

CRAPTER  II. 
In  which  several  friends  of  the  family  are  introduced  to  the  reader  11 

CHAPTER  III. 
The  night  dcfore  Keubeu  went  to  school :  how  his  hair  was  cut,  and  • 

who  was  the  hair-cutter      .  .  .  .  ,        1C 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Mrs.  Medlicott  borrows  Mrs.  "Winning's  French  maid.    Eeuben  leaves 

home,  and  other  important  incidents  .  .  .25 


BOOK  THE  SECOND. 

CHAPTER  I. 
The  school  at  Hereford.    Eeuben  renews  an  old  intimacy  and  makes 

several  new  acquaintances  .  .  .  .,85 

CHAPTER  II. 
Mrs.  Barsao's  ball         .....  41 

CHAPTER  III. 
More  festivity  at  Mrs.  Barsac's  .  .  .  .47 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  vicar's  account  of  the  BarBacs.  Reuben  shows  a  talent  for  music. 

His  first  and  his  last  pug'Iietic  contest  .  .  .54 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  V. 
A  chapter  of  good  advice  and  of  good  intentions  .  .       «3 

CHAPTEK  VI. 
Chiefly  occupied  with  the  ill  behaviour  of  an  old  gentleman  and  the 

discomfort  it  occasioned  a  young  one  .  •  .67 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Eeuben  spends  a  memorable  Sunday  with  his  grandiather,  and  all  the 

Barsacs  .  •  •  •  •  .71 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Reuben  sits  to  a  fair  artist  for  his  picture.    Who  interrupted  the  sit 

tings      ...  .  .  .       81 

CHAPTER  IX. 
An  afflicting  discovery,  which  ought  to  have  been  made  sooner          .       85 

CHAPTER  X. 
Reuben  gets  an  insight  into  the  private  life  of  his  grandfather  .        87 

CHAPTER  XL 
IIow  Reuben  celebrated  his  grandfather's  marriage  •  «        88 


BOOK  THE  THIRD. 

CHAPTER  I. 
Chapter  of  retrospects.    Reuben  is  bored  :   his  parents  are  Pigwid- 

geoned    .......      103 

CHAPTER  II. 
Reuben's  recovery  and  the  joy  it  occasioned  .  .  .      112 

CHAPTER  III. 

A  bold  stroke  for  a  dinner.  How  the  apothecary  got  back  to  the  vi 
carage,  and  how  he  turned  the  vicar  out  of  it  .  .  113 

CHAPTER  IV. 
A  few  pleasant  days  with  the  doctor.    Reuben  receives  the  honours 

of  a  prima  donna,  and  the  whole  party  set  out  on  a  tour  .      124 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  Medlicotts  on  their  travels.  Reuben  buys  a  Welch  grammar, 
makes  the  acquaintance  of  a  Welch  bard,  and  falls  in  with  some 
fair  friends  123 


CONTENTS.  V 

MM 
CHAPTER  VI. 

Henry  "Winning  and  Hyacinth  Primrose  join  the  expedition  .      135 

BOOK  THE  FOURTH. 

CHAPTER  I. 
Departure  for  college   ......      145 

CHAPTER  II. 
Hero  worship  ......      152 

CHAPTER  III. 
Mrs.  Medlicott  has  a  lucid  interval.    A  storm  succeeded  by  a  calm    .      157 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  dean  at  the  table  .  .  .  .  .  .162 

CHAPTER  V. 
A  new  employment     ......      169 

CHAPTER  VI. 
The  sermon  on  conscience.    An  episode  ...      173 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Mr.  Medlicott  meets  one  who  is  as  versatile  as  himself        .  .      177 


BOOK  THE  FIFTH. 

CHAPTER  I. 
Burlington  Gardens     ......      184 

CHAPTER  II. 
Not  important,  but  not  long      .  .  •  •  .      191 

CHAPTER  III. 
A  social  revolution      ......      195 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Bchool  of  rhetoric  .  .  •  .202 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  Professor's  wife    .  .      209 


Yi  CONTENTS. 

BOOK  THE  SIXTH. 

FAQS 

CHAPTER  I. 
A  glimpse  of  glory  .  •  •  •  .215 

CHAPTEK  II. 
Thoughts  that  bres.the  and  words  that  burn  •  •  .221 

CHAPTER  IH. 
The  apostasy  .  ,  ,  .      225 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  tremendous  demonstration  •  •  •      280 

CHAPTER  V. 
A  chapter  of  consequences  .  •  •  «      287 


BOOK  THE  SEVENTH. 

CHAPTER  I. 
Mr.  Medlicott  quarrels  with  the  church  .  .  *  •      242 

CHAPTER  II. 
Mr.  Medlicott  is  called  to  the  bar  .  •  •  •      247 

CHAPTER  III. 
A  rival  orator  ......      251 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Mr.  Medlicott  sympathises  with  the  Polos,  and  is  naturally  led  from 

one  sympathy  to  another    .....      258 

CHAPTER  V. 
How  Mr.  Medlicott  fell  among  the  Quakers  .  *  .     266 


BOOK  THE  EIGHTH. 

CHAPTER  I. 
The  tobacconist  of  Chichester    .....      280 

CHAPTER  II. 
A  summer  eve  ing's  walk         .....      288 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

PAOB 

CHAPTEE  III. 

Pleasure  before  business  .  .  .  .  292 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Friends  in  council        ......      297 

CHAPTEE  V. 
JSirach,  the  raven         ......      501 

CHAPTEE  VI. 

In  which  a  discovery  is  made  that  surprises  everybody        .  .      808 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Mr.  Medlicott  receives  the  deputation      ....      811 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Mr.  Medlicott  gives  his  friends  a  treat     .  .  .  .819 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Wheels  within  wheels  .....      827 

CHAPTER  X. 
How  the  contest  was  conducted  ....      830 

CHAPTER  XI. 
The  conquering  hero  comes       .  .  .      837 

CHAPTEE  XII. 
A  chapter  of  outrages  on  all  sides  ....      845 

CHAPTEE  XIII. 
A  political  victory  followed  by  a  domestic  triumph  .  .      851 


BOOK  THE  NINTH. 

CHAPTEE  I. 
The  ascent  of  a  sky-rocket         .  .  .  .  .853 

CHAPTEE  II. 
Aira  and  affectations.    Discords  and  reconcilements  .  .      865 

CHAPTEE  III. 
\  scene  in  Kensington  Gardens  ....      878 


Till  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Mr.  Hedhooll  visits  the  New  "World        .  .  •  .880 

CHAPTEK  V. 
Peace  proves  more  fatal  than  war  ....      885 

CHAPTEK  VI. 
In  which  Fortune  promises  to  compensate  the  vicar  for  her  treatment 

of  his  son  .  .  .  .  .  .891 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Mr.  Medlicott  in  office  .  .  .  .  .896 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Mr.  Medlicott  renounces  the  errors  of  beef  and  mutton        .  .      401 

CHAPTER  IX. 
In  which  another  bubble  bursts  .  .  .      408 


BOOK  THE  TENTH. 

CHAPTER  I, 
The  last  effort  of  genius  •  .  ».  ,  .419 

CHAPTER  II. 
Folly  interrupted  by  sorrow      .  .         -     •  •  .     425 

CHAPTER  III. 
Progress  of  mental  infirmity     •  .  •  .  ,      481 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  last  folly  and  the  last  speech  ....      486 


THE 

UNIVERSAL  GENIUS  5 

OR.   THE    COMING    MAN, 
BOOK  THE  FIRST, 


M  Uno  ore  oniiies  oinnia 
f$ona  diccre,  et  laudare  foftunas  meal 
Qui  gnatuiu  haberein  tali  in-enio  pnedltniD." 

Terence.  Andr.  Act  1  Sc.  I, 

All  the  world 

With  one  accord  said  nil  kind  things,  and  praised 
My  happy  fortune,  to  possess  a  sou 
go  good,  so  liberally  disposed. 

Coleman's  Translation 


ARGUMENT. 

IF  the  world  is  a  stage,  and  human  life  a  drama,  a  prefatory  chapter  to  a 
biography  must  be  as  proper  as  a  prologue  to  a  play.  The  object  in  both 
cases  is  much  the  same ;  to  establish  a  fair  understanding  between  the 
author  and  his  audience;  in  other  words,  by  a  little  art  and  gentle  pre 
paration,  to  bring  the  spectator,  or  the  reader,  into  a  state  of  mind  akin 
to  what  professors  of  mesmerism  mean  by  being  en  rapport  with  their 
patients.  In  the  opera,  this  is  accomplished  by  the  device  of  the  over 
ture,  which  gives  a  sort  of  musical  abstract  of  the  sentiments  and  pas 
sions  of  the  coining  performance;  now  melting  in  harmony  with  tha 
amorous  scenes  of  the  story,  again  swelling  into  unison  with  its  sterner 
passages ;  then,  with  a  full  orchestral  crash,  vaguely  foreboding  a  certain 
catastrophe,  either  of  a  tragic  or  a  comic  nature.  Upon  the  same  princi 
ple  of  composition,  the  overture  or  preface  to  a  human  life  ought  to  aim 
at  representing,  in  some  allusive,  slight,  rapid,  and  sketchy  way,  its  lead 
ing  vicissitudes  and  characteristics.  Adopting  the  idea  of  an  overture, 
we  should  request  the  reader  of  the  following  pages  to  imagine  tha 
orchestra  thronged  with  a  greater  variety  of  instrument^  of  all  sorts,. 


2       »  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

than  Nebuchadnezzar  had  in  his  band: — harps,  dulcimer?,  flutes,  sack- 
huts,  psalteries,  and  all  kinds  of  music,  ancient  and  modern,  which  must 
farther  be  conceived  to  play  to  the  mind's  ear  as  miscellaneous  a  concerto 
as  was  ever  composed,  consisting  of  snatches  of  very  many  tunes,  with  a 
profusion  of  variations.  Should  this  illustration  not  be  sufficiently  illus 
trative,  let  a  pantomime  be  supposed  to  follow  and  harlequin  perform  his 
series  of  Christmas  tricks  and  transformations.  The  motley  necromancer 
himself  typifies  perpetual  motion  and  endless  variety;  let  the  freaks  of 
character  and  the  changes  of  fortune  be  ever  eo  numerous,  he  is  knight 
of  the  shire,  and  represents  them  all. 

Or  the  reader  may,  if  he  please,  or  thinks  it  worth  the  trouble,  sum 
mon  up  and  cause  to  pass  in  procession  before  him,  all  the  innumerable 
images,  types,  and  figures  of  versatility  and  mutability,  such  as  chameleons, 
rainbows,  weathercocks,  kaleidoscopes,  Joseph's  coat,  or  a  herald's  taburd, 
the  clime  of  England,  the  constitutions  of  France,  a  Brougham,  an  opal, 
a  woman,  or  the  moon.  lie  may  spin  out  the  pageant,  if  he  like,  until 
it  is  tedious  as  my  Lord  Mayor's  show;  only  let  it  be  equally  noisy,  with 
plenty  of  drums  and  trumpets,  especially  speaking-trumpets;  for,  as 
Montaigne  saith  truly,  "this  is  a  world  of  babble,"  and  our  Coming  Man 
had  more  than  his  fair  share  of  it. 

By  way  of  argument  to  our  first  book,  let  it  suffice  to  say,  that_  the 
subject  of  our  story  (whom  we  deliberately  refrain  from  styling  its  hero) 
is  born  herein ;  nor  cay  there  be  a  doubt  that  he  made  a  speech  upon 
the  occasion,  and  one  that  was  exceedingly  well  received  by  the  audience, 
although  it  was  altogether  unpremeditated,  and  no  report  of  it  has  been 
preserved.  Escaping  all  the  fatalities  that  often  cut  the  mysterious 
thread  of  life  while  it  is  yet  a  short  one,  he  graduates  in  the  nursery 
with  eclat,  and,  arriving  at  the  green  age  of  thirteen  or  fourteen,  is  sent 
to  a  public  school,  to  him  a  momentous  event,  though,  in  itself,  no  start 
ling  or  extraordinary  occurrence.  Among  our  earliest  acquaintances,  as 
well  as  his,  will  be  a  reverend  father  and  an  accomplished  mother;  we 
phall  pop  upon  the  gentleman  cultivating  his  cabbages,  and  surprise  the. 
lady  in  her  white  dimity,  green  spectacles,  and  blue  stockings.  Possibly, 
if  the  father  had  cultivated  his  cabbages  less,  and  his  son  more,  the  latter 
might  have  succeeded  as  well  as  the  early  York  did,  or  the  brocolu 
Possibly,  too,  if  the  mother's  hose  had  been  of  another  hue,  it  might  have 
changed  the  complexion  of  the  boy's  fortunes.  But  a  truce  to  possibili 
ties.  It  is  time  for  our  overture,  or  prologue,  to  end,  and  the  curtain, 
rise  upon  the  performance,  such  as  it  is ;  for  we  know  not  well  how  to 
describe  it,  unless  in  the  words  of  Polonius:  "  Comedy,  history,  pastoral, 
pastoral-comical,  comical  liistorical-psitoral,  scene  undividable,  or  poem 
unlimited." 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN. 
CHAPTER  L 

BIRTH  AND  EARLY  EDUCATION  OP  KEUBEtf. 

MR.  REUBEN  MEDLICOTT,  whose  variegated  life  we  are  about  to 
relate  in  the  following  pages,  was  the  only  son  of  a  clergyman  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Chichester,  who,  neither  possessing  power 
ful  connexions,  parliamentary  interest,  or  any  higher  talents  than 
some  classical  taste,  and  a  modicum  of  dry  humour,  enjoyed  no 
richer  preferment  in  the  Church  than  the  vicarage  of  Underwood, 
worth  about  three  hundred  pounds  a-year,  including  the  value 
of  the  glebe,  and  a  small,  but  pretty  and  comfortable  house  upon 
it.  The  Vicar  was  a  better  gardener  than  theologian,  and  more 
a  respecter  of  learning  than  a  learned  man  himself.  He  consi 
dered  himself,  however,  a  good,  plain,  classical  scholar,  and  was 
disposed  to  prize  that  species  of  erudition  more  than  any  other. 
His  wife,  indeed,  had  the  advantage  over  him  in  point  of  variety 
of  attainments.  She  was  the  daughter  of  Doctor  Wyndham, 
an  eminent  dignitary  of  the  Church,  who  had  been  distinguished 
when  a  young  man  at  Cambridge  among  men  of  science,  but 
having  subsequently  deserted  the  ^jerene  study  of  mathematics 
for  the  more  exciting  pursuits  of  controversial  divinity,  was  sup 
posed  to  have  been  making  a  push  for  the  mitre;  and  some 
people  thought  he  had  not  yet  withdrawn  his  eyes  from  that 
captivating  and  brilliant  object.  Dean  Wyndham,  however,  had 
not  been  very  unsuccessful  in  his  professional  career,  even  as 
things  were,  for  besides  the  deanery  of  a  cathedral  town  in  the 
north  of  England,  he  was  incumbent  of  a  good  living  near  Here 
ford  :  and  the  additional  possession  of  a  fair  sinecure  in  the  dio 
cese  of  Chichester,  completed  his  resemblance  to  those  prosperous 
sons  of  the  Church,  who  are  described  by  Dryden  as 

>  *•*"  "^s  1    j 

"  bearing  on  their  shield, 
Three  steeples  argent  on  a  sable  field." 

The  veteran  pluralist  was  now  a  widower,  and  led  a  sort  of 
vagrant  life,  to  and  fro  among  his  various  preferments,  something 
like  the  wandering  shepherds  we  read  of  in  Arabia,  or  the  steppes 
of  Tartary.  When  he  was  supposed  to  be  at  Hereford,  he  was 
away  in  Northumberland,  and  when  a  letter  was  addressed  to 
him  in  Northumberland,  an  answer  was  returned  from  Chichester 


4;  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ] 

Besides  lie  kept  up  his  ancient  connexion  with  the  University, 
•where  he  generally  spent  a  month  or  two  in  the  height  of  the 
academic  season,  with  one  or  other  of  his  old  cronies. 

But  to  return  to  the  mother  of  our  Reuben :  she  had  erudi 
tion  oil  both  sides  of  the  house,  for  her  mother  had  heen  one  of 
ihe  fcmmes  sarantcs  of  her  day;  she  had  written  a  book  on^  edu 
cation,  corresponded  with  ILinnah  More,  and  left  an  unfinished 
treatise  behind  her  on  the  Academic  Institutions  of  the  Spartans. 
It  was  surprising  Mr.  Medlicott  made  the  choice  lie  did  between 
Catherine  and  Elinor  Wyndham,  the  two  daughters  of  the  Dean 
by  this  learned  lady;  for  Catherine  was  more  suited  to  him,  and 
better  qualified  in  every  respect  for  the  wife  of  a  simple  country 
clergyman  ;  but  the  fact  was,  that  Catherine  Wyndham,  having 
nothing  to  recommend  her  but  her  good  looks  and  sweet  dispo 
sition,  was  neglected  by  her  mother,  or  rather  systematically  kept 
in  the  background,  while  Elinor,  who  walked  in  the  maternal 
footsteps,  and  resembled  her  both  in  mind  and  person,  was  trotted 
out  and  trumpeted  upon  all  occasions.  However,  she  made  a 
bad  hit  after  all  in  the  matrimonial  way  ;  for  with  her  literary 
pretensions,  she  ought  at  least  to  have  netted  a  senior  wrangler, 
or  trapped  a  regius  professor,  and  she  was  therefore  considered 
to  have  actually  thrown  herself  away  upon  Mr.  Medlicott,  who 
had  neither  university  reputation,  nor  interest  in  the  Church. 
She  married  him,  too,  against  the  wishes  of  both  her  parents;  by 
her  mother  she  was  never  forgiven,  and  her  father  did  not  relent 
until  her  husband  obtained  his  small  living  through  the  influence 
of  a  patrician  schoolfellow,  which  did  not  happen  until  after  he 
had  been  married  for  several  years. 

Catherine  Wyndham  remained  single  until  she  was  no  longer 
in  her  premiere  jcunesse,  and  then  she  married  Mr.  Mountjoy,  a 
man  of  considerable  fortune,  Avho  dying  in  the  third  year  of  their 
union  (which  had  not  been  blessed  with  offspring),  left  her  bloom 
ing  and  independent,  in  the  possession  of  a  handsome  income, 
which  no  woman  in  the  kingdom  deserved  better,  for  no  woman 
could  have  made  a  more  amiable  and  liberal  use  of  it. 

But  poor  Mrs.  Mountjoy  was,  in  literary  attainments,  a  mere 
nobody ;  she  knew  a  good  deal  about  men,  but  little  or  nothing 
about  books.  It  was  here  that  her  sister  outshone  her.  The 
difficulty  is  to  say  what  Elinor  Wyndham,  or  Mrs.  Medlicott,  did 
not  either  know,  try  to  know,  or  wish  to  seem  to  know.  She 
knew  twenty  times  as  many  things,  or  something  about  them, 
as  the  Vicar,  her  husband ;  but  so  far  "was  this  superiority  on 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  5 

her  part  from  impressing  him  with  duo  admiration  of  ftie  female 
faculties,  that  he  began  to  entertain  something  approaching  to 
contempt  for  them,  before  he  was  many  years  a  married  man. 
lie  was  particularly  disposed  to  this  way  of  thinkiqg  when  he 
found  his  wife  meddling  with  the  ancient  authors,  and  used  to 
say  sarcastically  to  his  intimate  friends,  that  to  see  a  woman 
reading  Greek  or  Latin,  filled  him  with  spite  and  envy ;  "  for  it 
was  evident  she  must  have  exhausted  all  the  stores  of  knowledge 
and  entertainment  to  be  found  in  the  living  languages,  before  she 
was  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  resorting  to  the  dead  ones." 

The  Vicar  divided  his  time,  for  the  most  part,  between  his 
parish,  his  garden,  and  his  small  collection  of  books :  a  few 
standard  works  on  divinity,  from  which  there  is  reason  to  think 
he  purloined  his  sermons,  and  now  and  then  a  play  of  Terence, 
or  a  dialogue  of  Lucian,  to  keep  up  his  knowledge  for  the  benefit 
of  his  son.  Horticulture  was  perhaps  his  favourite  occupation, 
and  he  did  not  addict  himself  to  it  the  less  because  his  wife  con 
sidered  it  beneath  her  attention.  In  spite  of  the  diversity  of 
their  tastes  however,  and  a  certain  quiet  conjugal  contempt  for 
one  another,  they  did  not  live  inharmoniously  together.  Some 
times  Mrs.  Medlicott  would  even  relent  from  her  stern  pursuits 
and  take  a  transitory  interest  in  the  flowers,  or  stoop  to  pick  a 
strawberry ;  and  again,  as  a  meet  return  for  her  complaisance, 
the  Vicar  would  sit  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  hearkening,  with 
more  patience  and  gravity,  than  admiration  or  profit,  to  his  wife's 
far  from  luminous  elucidations  of  the  secrets  of  the  universe,  such 
as  polarised  light,  or  the  process  by  which  a  nebula  developes 
itself  into  a  world.  It  was  very  provoking,  however,  that  he 
himself  never  was  tempted  to  plunge  into  any  of  the  dazzling 
abysses,  into  which  Mrs.  Medlicott  led  the  way,  for  his  encour 
agement.  Such  occasional  seances  generally  ended  by  the  Vicar's 
quoting  a  verse  of  the  nineteenth  psalm,  and  taking  up  his  hoe 
to  earth  his  kidney  beans. 

The  Vicarage  was  as  charming  a  spot  as  you  could  wish  to 
be  born  and  bred  in,  if  you  had  a  voice  in  the  matter.  It  had 
that  modest,  sequestered,  pastoral  character,  which  agrees  so  well 
with  the  notions  we  form  in  the  guileless  and  unsuspecting  days 
of  our  youth,  of  the  life  of  a  Christian  shepherd.  If  it  was  not 
very  ancient,  there  was  an  air  of  antiquity  about  it  which  made 
you  think  of  the  beautiful  old  times,  when  architecture  was  a 
province  of  the  kingdom  of  poetry,  and  they  knew  how  to  build 
cottages  as  well  as  cathedrals.  You  might  have  assigned  the 


6  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

incumbency  of  Chaucer's  "good  parson"  as  the  probabb  <l;iii'  <>f 
its  erection  :  or,  if  belonging  to  a  much  later  period,  at  :easl  have 
guessed  it  to  have  been  planned  by  Milton  and  built  expressly 
for  Lycidas.  It  stood  close  to  the  roadside,  not  one  of  your 
broad,  level,  dusty,  glaring  causeways,  but  a  zigzag,  up-and-down, 
primrosed  by-road,  always  surprising  you  with  some  new  pictu 
resque  peep  at  every  rapid  turn.  The  house  in  its  structure  was 
a  very  jewel  of  irregularity,  with  such  fantastic  gables,  such  quaint 
grey  chimneys,  and  windows,  such  a  curious  jumble  of  wood, 
brick,  and  stone,  mossed  over  in  one  place,  ivied  in  another, 
matted  with  roses  in  another,  and  upon  one  flank  quite  overhung 
with  a  wilderness  of  laurels,  chestnuts,  hawthorns,  and  laburnums, 
that  had  a  company  of  young  poets  and  painters,  in  the  heyday 
of  their  imagination,  turned  masons  and  carpenters  in  a  freak  of 
fancy,  they  could  scarcely  have  produced  anything  more  exquisite 
in  the  Anglo-Arcadian  style.  It  was  just  the  sort  of  house  which 
youthful  couples,  newly  united  by  Holy  Church,  heigh-ho'd  for 
as  they  passed,  and  vowed  they  preferred  a  thousand  times  to 
any  castle,  hall,  or  mansion  in  the  land.  Older  people,  weary 
of  the  world,  coveted  precisely  such  a  peaceful  nook  to  close  their 
clays  in.  The  veteran  soldier  desired  no  better  fortune  than  to 
recline  in  his  old  age  under  those  superb  laurels ;  nay,  even  the 
passing  lawyer  in  the  height  of  his  business  and  reputation, 
mused  with  himself,  and  doubted  whether  he  would  not  have  had 
a- happier  lot  as  Vicar  of  Underwood,  and  the  humble  tenant  of 
so  sweet  an  abode. 

When  Master  Reuben  came  into  the  world,  you  may  imagine 
with  what  intense  anxiety  a  woman  like  Mrs.  Medlicott  must 
have  watched  the  growth  of  his  little  faculties.  To  prepare  her 
self  to  preside  properly  over  his  early  instruction,  she  went 
through  a  course  of  study  that  would  frighten  many  a  hard 
working  scholar  of  the  Universities :  and  she  laid  down  a  course 
of  reading  for  her  husband  also,  but  she  might  as  well  have 
spared  herself  the  trouble,  for  the  Vicar  had  no  original  views 
•whatever  upon  the  subject  cf  education,  and  thought  John  Locke 
had  said  every  thing  that  was  to  be  said  about  it.  There  was, 
however,  one  point  in  which  the  parents  were  agreed,  namely, 
in  praying  that  Reuben,  when  arrived  at  years  of  maturity,  would 
take  after  his  grandfather,  rather  than  his  father.  The  Vicar  had 
an  extraordinary  and  almost  servile  veneration  for  l>e;m  Wynd- 
ham,  who  was  in  his  eyes  the  greatest  divine  and  almost  the 
greatest  man  in  England.  He  had  wr  tten  profoundly  when  a 


OR,  THE  COMING 

very  young  man  'upon  some  abstruse  mathematical  subjects ; 
later  in  life  he  had  published  a  learned  commentary  on  the  dia 
logues  of  Plato ;  and  he  was  now,  in  his  green  and  vigorous  old 
age,  hurling  his  thunderbolts  at  the  Church  of  Rome,  and  rous- 

O     '  ~ 

ing  the  Protestant  spirit  of  the  country  to  resist  the  admission  of 
Roman  Catholics  into  the  legislature.  Nor  ought  it  perhaps  to 
be  left  altogether  out  of  account  that  the  Dean  was  supposed 
(as  we  have  already  intimated)  to  have  pretty  fair  prospects  of 
advancement  to  a  bishopric,  which  could  not  but  be  a  joyful 
event  to  all  his  kindred  and  connexions  in  holy  orders. 

Happy  it  unquestionably  would  have  been  for  the  Vicar's 
son,  had  some  hard-headed  man  like  Doctor  Wyndham  been  the 
director  of  his  studies  and  the  moulder  of  his  character.  For  the 
early  education  of  our  hero  was  a  curious  hash  of  all  conceivable 
methods,  systems,  theories  and  regimes.  In  short  there  was  no 
system  in  it  at  all,  or  it  had  the  defects  and  inconveniences  of  all 
systems.  This  misfortune  would  probably  not  have  befallen  him, 
had  either  the  Vicar,  or  his  wife  ruled  the  roast,  for  then  the  ideas 
of  one  or  the  other  would  have  prevailed,  and  something  like  a 
system,  right  or  wrong,  would  have  been  the  result;  but  the 
energies  of  this  respactable  couple  were  so  nearly  balanced  that 
neither  had  the  ascendancy  for  any  considerable  length  of  time; 
now  the  father  was  supreme,  now  the  mother  had  her  way ;  in 
fact  the  scale  of  authority  and  influence  went  up  and  down  like 
a  game  of  see-saw  played  by  two  urchins  in  a  saw-pit.  When 
Mr.  Medlicott  was  up,  Latin  and  Greek  went  up  with  him,  gram 
mar  and  prosody,  Alexander,  Scipio,  Scylla  and  Chary bdis. 
When  the  mother's  end  of  the  beam  was  aloft,  came  the  turn  of 
modern  languages  and  what  she  called  the  arts  and  sciences ;  a 
splash  of  French,  an  occasional  twist  at  German,  sometimes  even 
a  bout  of  geology  and  astronomy,  and  every  now  and  then  a 
great  hullabulloo  for  a  few  days  about  arithmetic.  Mrs.  Medli 
cott  had  a  crotchet  in  her  head  (which  she  got  from  the  Phre 
nologists,  who  were  great  oracles  with  her),  that  as  the  organs  or 
the  faculties  were  many  in  number,  the  provisions  or  exercises 
for  them  ought  to  be  equally  numerous :  in  fact  that  the  best 
system  of  instruction  was  the  most  diffused  and  multifarious. 
Mr.  Medlicott  on  the  other  hand  was  all  for  concentration  ;  and 
each  had  a  copious  collection  of  authorities  and  dogmas,  "  wise 
saws  and  modern  instances,"  'n  support  of  the  doctrine  that  each 
held.  Thus  the  boy  was  in  fact  pulled  backwards  and  forwards, 
from  one  parent  to  the  other,  the  lessons  of  neither  making  an 


8  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

impression  of  ranch  value  or  permanence  ;  except  that  be.tweeti 
them  both  he  early  laid  in  a  wonderful  stock  of  words  and  phrases, 
the  foundation  of  the  character  he  subsequently  acquired  as  a 
talker  of  the  first  magnitude.  And  there  -was  just  the  same 
regular  irregularity  in  Lours  and  habits,  In  the  dirk  n.  ^nths, 
Mrs.  Medlicott  would  sometimes  conceive  a  sudden  anc  irresistible 
passion  for  early  rising,  and  the  fciaids  were  called  vp  at  cock 
crow  of  frosty  mornings,  to  kindle  the  school-rooui  fire,  or  a  tire 
in  some  other  part  of  the  home,  for  not  even  the  room  where 
Eeuben  received  his  education  was  a  settled  place.  He  remem 
bered  having  learned  his  Latin  grammar  in  all  manner  of  cham 
bers,  and  he  recollected  having  once  been  lectured  on  geography 
in  the  kitchen,  the  cook  asking  his  father  1o  show  her  one  of  the 
West  Indian  islands  on  the  globe,  where  her  son  who  was  a  sol* 
dier,  was  serving  in  his  regiment.  On  the  other  hand,  in  tho 
middle  of  summer,  the  business  of  the  day  would  often  not  com 
mence  Until  the  dew  was  off*  the  grass.  Then,  there  was  a  con 
tinual  shifting  of  Reuben's  meal-times ;  the  hours  that  suited  tho 
mother's  convenience  never  accommodating  the  father,  and  tha 
regulations  insisted  on  by  him  during  his  brief  period  of  autho 
rity,  being  invariably  reversed  the  moment  the  next  counter 
revolution  placed  the  dynasty  in  her  hands.  The  effect  of  all  this 
was  that  to  the  eye  of  a  visitor  in  the  house  for  a  short  period,  it 
seemed  the  very  model  of  order  and  discipline,  so  that  people 
who  were  not  deep  in  the  secrets  of  the  Vicarage  used  to  leave 
it  mightily  pleased ;  extol  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Medlicott  highly,  and 
wish  they  could  manage  things  with  half  the  regularity  in  their 
own  houses. 

But  the  education  of  Reuben  was  at  the  mercy  of  other  in 
fluences  besides  those  already  mentioned,  and  still  with  the  same 
Unlucky  tendency  to  distraction.  At  certain  intervals  his  parents 
would  both  suddenly  discover  that  neither  one  nor  the  other  was 
the  proper  person  to  conduct  his  education,  and  that  he  ought  to  go 
to  school,  or  have  a  tutor  or  governess.  Between  eight  and  nine 
he  was  the  scholar  of  an  old  Quaker  schoolmistress,  named  Hannah 
Hopkins,  who  kept  an  infant  seminary  in  Chichester,  where  she 
taught  small  children  of  both  sexes  to  knit  and  sit  upon  forms, 
as  mute  as  if  they  were  at  meeting.  She  may  have  taught  Reu 
ben  the  former  art,  but  as  to  silence,  he  never  was  very  proficient 
at  it,  either  under  her  or  any  of  his  other  instructors.  Then  Mrs. 
Winning,  of  Sunbury,  a  lady  of  considerable  fortune  in  the 
parish,  had  a  tutor  at  one  time  for  her  nephew,  Henry  Winning, 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  9 

and  she  was  glad  to  allow  Reuben  to  join  him  in  his  studies,  part 
ly  out  of  friendship  for  the  Vicar,  and  partly  to  afford  her  nephew 
the  advantage  of  a  companion,  although  Reuben  was  his  junior 
by  two  or  three  years.  This  was  a  very  desirable  arrangement 
(particularly  as  Henry  Winning  was  a  boy  of  great  promise), 
but  it  did  not  last  many  months  ;  Mrs.  Medlicott  interfered  in 
the  course  of  tuition  in  a  way  that  Mrs.  Winning  disapproved, 
and  the  wind  also  happening  to  shift  to  the  rainy  point,  Reuben 
caught  a  cold  one  day,  returning  from  Sudbury,  and  domestic 
education  was  resumed  again. 

Had  there  been  coercion  in  any  of  these  diversified  processes, 
our  hero  would  probably  have  hated  books -of  all  ki«ds,  and  dis 
liked  all  his  teachers  in  turn ;  but  his  love  of  learning  escaped 
this  very  common  danger.  He  was  of  so  teachable  and  ductile 
a  disposition  that  he  profited  to  some  extent  by  all  the  lessons 
he  received,  and  bent  like  an  osier  to  all  the  shifting  breezes  to 
which  parental  vacillation  exposed  him.  It  was  equal  to  Reuben 
whether  the  parlour  was  his  study,  or  the  pantry  ;  he  got  up 
cheerfully  at  six,  and  he  got  up  cheerfully  at  nine  ;  he  could  con 
jugate  amo,  or  decline  musa,  with  Nell  churning  at  his  elbow,  or 
copy  a  French  exercise  while  Mopsa  was  making  his  mother's  bed. 

In  truth,  he  had  a  strong  natural  appetite  for  knowledge, 
which  made  it  the  more  deplorable  that  the  craving  was  not 
satisfied  with  method  and  judgment.  The  system  of  variety 
and  diffusion  was  unquestionably  that  for  which  the  boy  himself 
would  have  voted,  for  even  his  mother's  range  was  not  wide 
enough  for  his  taste,  or  his  ambition;  he  read,  or  dipped  into 
every  book  within  his  reach,  not  positively  interdicted ;  and  as 
to  interdicts  in  such  a  disorderly  place  as  the  Vicarage,  they  were 
too  often  revoked,  or  modified,  to  be  much  respected,  or  very 
punctiliously  obeyed. 

In  short,  there  was  not  a  branch,  or  a  twig,  of  the  tree  of 
knowledge,  within  the  reach  of  his  feeble  wing,  on  which  Ren- 
ben  Medlicott  had  not  perched  and  prattled  long  before  he  was 
fully  fledged.  Far  from  needing  the  stimulus  of  the  least  sever 
ity,  he  outran  every  expectation  of  diligence  entertained  by  his 
friends.  A  still  temperament  and  a  delicate  frame  inclined  him 
to  prefer  even  a  task  by  the  fireside  to  almost  any  amusement 
out  of  doors.  He  made  toys  and  bedfellows  of  his  books,  and, 
except  to  force  him  to  take  exercise  absolutely  necessary  for  his 
health,  his  parents  had  never  occasion  to  say  a  cross  word  to 

I   • 

him, 

1* 


10  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

X'fctf  jnvecrcess  and  pliability  of  character  which  are  so  grace 
ful  in  a  cniid,  and  often  so  much  commended,  are  virtues  lean 
ing  to  tne  side  ot  tlmlts,  and  beauties  with  a  principle  of  weak 
ness  in  them.  There  was  visible  early  in  Reuben's  life  a  defi 
ciency  of  the  spirit,  and  daring  so  proper  and  so  promising  in 
boyhood  ;  there  Avas  more  of  the  female  than  the  masculine  typo 
in  his  constitution  ;  his  tongue  was  the  most  active  of  his  mem 
bers  ;  lie  might  rival  his  grandfather  in  his  stores  of  learning, 
but,  unless  some  signal  revolution  took  place,  there  seemed  very 
little  prospect  of  his  equalling  either  the  mental  energies,  or  the 
physical  strength  of  Doctor  Wyndham. 

In  person  the  boy,  who  was  now  in  his  thirteenth  year,  had 
not  taken  very  decidedly  after  either  of  his  parents.  His  mother 
was  a  tall  woman,  with  a  pretentious  carriage,  a  high  colour, 
and  regular,  though  somewhat  hard  features,  to  which  the  bluo 
spectacles  she  always  wore  gave  a  didactic,  and  decidedly  mas 
culine  expression.  The  Vicar  was  a  short,  thick  man,  of  a  florid 
complexion,  and  slightly  inclined  to  corpulence,  both  probably 
the  effects  of  the  healthy,  but  inactive  life  he  led — a  life  in  which 
it  was  hard  to  say  whether  his  pastoral  labours,  his  classical 
studies,  or  his  gardening  relaxations,  were  the  most  or  the  least 
fatiguing.  Reuben,  at  the  age  we  speak  of,  was  disposed  to  bo 
tall  ;  but  he  had  none  of  the  lather's  or  mother's  florid  complex 
ion  in  his  cheeks  :  he  was  pale,  though  the  hue  was  not  sickly ; 
his  face  was  long,  and  almost  preternaturally  placid  ;  for,  instead 
of  the  hard  expression  which  he  might  have  taken  from  the 
female  side  of  the  house,  Reuben's  physiognomy  had  inherited  a 
certain  tone  of  indecision  from  his  father's  features,  and  parti 
cularly  about  the  mouth,  which  was  large  and  pendent.  His 
hair  was  fair  and  abundant,  still  permitted  to  fall  in  girlish  pro 
fusion  on  his  shoulders  :  and  his  eyes  were  of  his  mother's  spe 
culative  azure,  with  a  touch  there,  too,  of  the  Vicar's  too  quiet 
and  indeterminate  character. 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  11 


CHAPTER  IL 
ra  wmcn  BEVEEAI,  FRIENDS  OF  THE  FAMILY  ARE  INTRODUCED  TO 

THE  EEADER. 

IT  was  not  until  Reuben  had  reached  the  age  when,  according 
to  the  custom  of  England,  boys  of  his  position  in  life  are  sent 
from  home  to  receive  *the  benefits,  and  run  the  risks  of  a  public 
school,  that  his  grandfather  began  to  manifest  any  interest, 
cither  in  Mrs.  Medlicott,  or  her  son.  The  Dean  had,  indeed, 
been  gradually  softening  for  some  years,  but  it  was  a  slow  .pro 
cess  ;  he  sometimes  invited  the  Vicar  and  his  wife  to  spend  a 
dull  Christmas  or  Easter  with  him,  and  occasionally  paid  them  an 
abrupt  visit,  when  his  business  brought  him  to  Chichester  and  it 
suited  his  convenience  to  quarter  himself  somewhere  in  the  vicin 
ity.  Latterly,  however,  the  parties  had  been  on  more  cordial 
terms.  The  Dean  had  the  feelings  of  a  father  au  fond,  and  ho 
was  also  won  by  the  simplicity  of  the  Vicar's  character,  though 
he  despised  his  abilities  most  heartily.  What,  however,  had  prob 
ably  the  greatest  effect  in  reconciling  him  to  Mr.  Medlicott,  was 
the  veneration  in  which  the  latter  held  him.  It  was  the  delight 
of  Doctor  Wyndham  to  receive  homage,  and  inspire  awe ;  he 
was  never  very  fond  of  anybody  who  did  not  either  fear  or 
flatter  him,  and  the  Vicar  possessed  the  two  passports  to  his 
favour. 

The  first  concern  the  Dean  showed  in  his  grandson's  welfare, 
betrayed  itself  in  the  curt  postscript  to  a  letter  which  the  Vicar 
received  from  him  on  some  indifferent  matter  of  business.  "  So 
you  have  not  sent  your  son  to  school  yet,  how  long  do  you  mean 
to  coddle  him  at-  the  fire-side  ?  Send  him  to  school  at  once,  or 
you'll  be  sorry  for  it.  There  is  a  very  good  school  at  Hereford 
• — Kept  by  Mr.  B  rough,  related  to  my  friends  the  Barsacs — at 
least  it  is  as  good  as  any  other  I  know." 

The  Dean's  word  was  law,  and  it  happened  that  the  Hereford 
school  was  just  the  one  his  parents  would  probably  have  select 
ed  for  Reuben,  had  they  been  left  to  themselves.  It  was  not  as 
expensive  as  the  great  seminaries,  such  as  Eton  and  Winchester  ; 
the  Dean  had  a  living  within  ten  miles  of  Hereford,  which  he 
had  latterly  favoured  with  his  presence  more  than  his  other  pre 
ferments  ;  and,  moreover,  Mrs.  Winning's  nephew,  who  has  been 
already  mentioned,  was  a  pupil  of  Mr.  Brough's  at  present, 


12  TKE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

and  was  considered  a  creditable  specimen  of  thcat  gentleman's 
efficiency  as  a  tutor.  The  Medlicotts  kne\v  something  already 
of  the  Barsacs  (the  family  mentioned  by  the  Dean),  through 
Mrs.  Mountjoy,  who  was  connected  with  them  by  marriage. 
They  were  wealthy  people  in  the  wine-trade,  resident  at  Here 
ford,  and  would  probably  be  civil  and  perhaps  useful  to  Reuben, 
for  the  sake  of  the  Dean, 

The  expense,  however,  was  s\  grave  consideration,  for  the 
Vicar's  mode  of  living  was  of  the  simplest,  and  there  was  no 
Very  large  margin  for  retrenchment.  However,  every  practicable 
reduction  was  resolved  on,  and  a  variety  of  presents  (marking 
the  interest  which  hia  friends  took  in  him),  materially  diminished 
the  cost  of  the  boy's  outfit.     Mrs.  Mountjoy  would  gladly  have 
contributed  handsomely  to  so  important  an  object  as  her  nephew's 
education,   but  Mrs.  Medlicott  was  always   averse  to  receiving 
assistance  from  her  more  prosperous  sister,  with  whom  she  wa3 
not  indeed  upon  the  most  cordial  t«rms.     As  to  the  Dean,  he 
was  generous  enough  of  his  advice,  which  ho  tendered,  as  we 
have  seen,  with  much  more  freedom  than  delicacy ;  but  though 
he  had  a  large  income,  as  good  as  that  of  some  bishoprics,   and 
was  also  a  widower  with  his  children  disposed  of,  he  was  the  last 
person  in  the  world  to  whom  the  Medlicotta  would  have  applied, 
even  in  a  case  of  serious  embarrassment,     Not  that  he  was  a 
grasping,  or  illiberal  man  either,  for  he  had  done  bountiful  things 
in  his  time,  though  apt  to  diminish  the  effect  of  a  kindness,  by 
an  inconsiderate  and  harsh  manner  of  doing  it.     But  the  fact 
was  that  Doctor  Wyndham  was  one  instance,  among  a  thousand 
others,  of  a  rich  man  who  waa  always  more  or  le§s  involved  in 
pecuniary  difficulties,     He  was  afflicted   with  an  ungovernable 
mania  for  building,  which,  perhaps,  has  involved  more  men  in 
embarrassed  circumstances  than  any  other  passion,  except  gaming, 
Ilia  propensities  in  this  way  were  very  well  known  to  his  rela 
tions  and  friends,  but  not  the  extent  to  which  he  indulged  them, 
Commencing  with  villas  he  advanced  to  terraces,  and  from  ter- 
races  his  passion  was  beginning  to  transport  him  to  more  spa 
cious  projects  of  crescents  and  squares.     As  to  the  houses  in  his 
Own  immediate  possession,  of  which  he  had  several,  besides  hia 
ecclesiastical  residences,  he  waa  always  altering,  enlarging,  or 
entirely  remodelling  them,     Indeed  he  never  could  pass'a  night 
ill  any  house,  whether  his  own  or  a  friend's,  without  planning 
its  reconstruction,  or  alterations  still  more  expensive.     Bricks  and 
ttiortar,  in  short,  never  left  him  the  command  of  a  fifty-pound 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN.  13 

note,  and  when  his  pockets  were  drained  to  the  last  shilling,  he 
borrowed  with  as  much  spirit  as  he  engaged  in  his  other  enter 
prises. 

At  the  very  moment  when  Mr.  Medlicott  was  what  is  termed 
"  hard  up  "  for  a  small  sum  of  money  to  meet  the  first  expense 
of  his  son's  schooling,  his  seemingly  opulent  father-in-law  was 
actually  in  the  neighbourhood,  without  the  knowledge  of  his 
relations,  negotiating  a  loan  of  several  thousand  pounds  from  a 
wealthy  citizen  of  Chichester. 

The  Medlicotta  discovered  this  by  the  merest  accident  only  a 
few  days  before  Reuben  left  home  for  Hereford.  The  Vicar,  in 
fact,  wanted  a  bum  of  twenty  pounds  at  the  moment. 

"  Probably,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott,  "  Mr.  Cox  could  accommo 
date  you." 

"  With  much  less  difficulty,"  said  the  Vicar,  "  than  I  shall 
have  in  asking  him." 

Matthew  Cox  was  a  remarkable  man  of  his  class,  and  a  steady 
friend  of  Mr.  Medlicott,  as  he  was  of  many  a  worthy  man  be 
sides  in  his  city  and  neighbourhood,  lie  had  carried  on  the 
trade  of  a  tobacconist  in  Chicliester  for-  many  a  year,  until  hav 
ing  made  a  considerable  fortune  there,  he  extended  his  business 
to  London,  where  his  shop  in  the  Poultry  was  well  known  in 
the  early  part  of  tho  present  century.  At  a  later  period  of  our 
story  we  shall  make  the  acquaintance  of  this  fine  specimen  of 
the  British  tradesman ;  it  is  sufficient  to  add  here  that  he  was 
wealthy,  influential,  benevolent,  and  liberal.  As  a  tobacconist  he 
was  chiefly  celebrated  for  his  snuff,  with  which  the  bishop  of  tho 
diocese  filled  his  box  weekly,  and  which  it  was  even  said  had 
made  his  Majesty  George  III.  sneeze  upon  the  throne.  Matthew 
had  married  a  qiiakeress,  a  relation  of  Hannah  Hopkins,  the 
schoolmistress  already  mentioned ;  this,  indeed,  was  the  origin 
of  his  acquaintance  with  tho  Vicar,  and  of  his  early  knowledge 
of  Reuben,  who  had  few  older  recollections  than  his  infant 
sports  with  Mary  Hopkins,  Hannah's  daughter,  among  the 
canisters, 

"  I  have  a  mind  to  ride  into  town  this  evening,"  said  tho 
Vicar. 

He  mounted  a  steady  mare  he  had,  and  Reuben,  (who  had 

weighty  business  in  town  with  his  trunkmaker  and  his  tailor,) 

mounted  his  small  pony,  and  rode  into  Chichester  with  his  father. 

It  was  a  charming  zig-zag  ride,  alternately  sunny  and  shady, 

from  the  Vicarage  to  the  part  of  Chichester  where  Mr,  Medlicott'a 


14  THE       NIVERSAL    GENIUS', 

affairs  led  him.  There  is  probably  now  a  much  straighter  road ; 
nay,  in  all  likelihood  a  railway,  which  if  the  present  incumbent 
of  Underwood  prefers  to  a  succession  of  green  lanes,  he  would 
probably  also  prefer  a  station-house  for  his  residence  to  the  pic 
turesque  parsonage  described  in  the  foregoing  chapter. 

Mr.  Cox  was  in  London.  This  the  Vicar  learned,  without 
entering  his  shop,  from  another  devoted  friend  of  his,  Mr.  Broad, 
the  cutler,  who  was  in  his  usual  place  at  that  hour  of  the  even 
ing,  on  a  stone  bench,  under  a  canopy  of  laburnums,  immedi 
ately  opposite  to  the  tobacconist's,  and  not  far  from  his  own 
house. 

"This  very  afternoon,  to  Lunnun,  sir,"  said  the  cutler,  jump 
ing  up  to  salute  Mr.  Medlicott  and  his  son,  which  he  did  in  a 
manner  which  nobody  could  see  for  the  first  time  without  being 
extremely  diverted.  He  was  a  little  fellow,  about  fifty,  of  a  dry 
yellow  complexion,  and  as  brisk  as  a  bee.  lie  wore  a  white  hat, 
an  enormous  mass  of  white  cravat,  a  swallow-tailed  blue  body 
coat,  the  skirts  of  which  almost  touched  the  ground,  and  breeches 
of  nankeen,  with  long'  strings  of  buff  ribbon  dangling  at  the 
knees.  His  stockings  were  white,  and  his  shoes  had  steel  buckles, 
so  that  altogether  it  was  a  neat  costume,  although  a  queer  one. 
When  he  saluted  the  Vicar,  he  twitched  off  his  hat  with  one 
hand,  revealing  a  powdered  head  of  hair,  carefully  brushed  up 
into  a  peak,  like  the  top  of  the  Jungfrau ;  whilst  at  the  same 
time,  with  the  other  hand  under  the  skirts  of  his  coat,  he  per 
formed  the  oddest  possible  antic  by  way  of  a  bow. 

For  so  small  a  rate  in  aid  as  the  Vicar  wanted,  Mr.  Broad 
suited  his  purpose  as  well  as  anybody  else ;  so  while  Reuben 
trotted  off  to  the  places  where  his  little  affairs  led  him,  Mr.  Med 
licott  transacted  his  business  with  the  cutler,  and  that  having 
been  settled,  the  Vicar  desired  to  know  what  news  was  stirring 
in  Chichester. 

"  I  presume,"  said  Mr.  Broad,  "  your  reverence  knows  that 
the  Dean  is  in  the  neighbourhood." 

"  No,  indeed,  I  did  not,"  said  the  Vicar ;  u  we  know  very 
little  of  the  Dean's  motions;  be  comes  and  goes  like  the  wind, 
I  think.  He  is  staying,  I  piesume,  with  Oldport  as  usual." 

Mr.  Oldport  was  a  Canon  of  Chichester,  and  an  old  chum  And 
crony  of  Dean  Wynd ham's. 

"  S;>  I  am  informed,"  said  Mr.  Broad. 

"  Have  you  seen  the  Dean  ?"  said  Mr.  Medlicott. 

"  I  saw  him  no  later  than  yesterday,  sir,  at  Mat  Cox's;  they 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN".  15 

were  transacting  business  together,  and  I  was  called  in  to  witness 
ike  signing  of  the  papers." 

"  Building  is  not  to  be  carried  on  without  money,"  said  the 
Vicar,  with  a  smile  and  a  sagacious  nod  to  Mr.  Broad. 

"  I'm  afraid  the  Dean  is  very  deep  in  the  mortar,"  said  the 
cutler. 

"  Do  you  say  so  ?"  said  Mr.  Medlicott. 

"Matthew  has  advanced  him  five  thousand  pounds,  sir; — a 
large  sum,  sir,  five  thousand  pounds." 

It  appeared  even  larger  to  the  Vicar  than  it  did  to  the  cut- 
,  ler,  but  he  made  no  remark,  and  changed  the  subject  of  conver 
sation  by  asking  Mr.  Broad  whether  he  had  had  any  argument 
with  the  Dean  on  politics,  or  anything  of  that  kind,  Reuben 
had  now  rejoined  thorn,  being  just  in  time  to  hear  a  curious 
illustration  of  his  grandfather's  character,  rendered  still  more 
singular  by  the  oddity  of  the  narrator's  appearance  and  gestures. 

"  The  Dean  had  no  argument  with  me,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Broad ; 
"but  he  had  a  grand  one  with  Matthew  Cox;  they  had  a  battle 
royal  in  Mat's  shop,  sir." 

"  Were  you  present  ?" 

"  Aye,  that  I  was,  sir ;  and  so  was  old  Hannah  Hopkins ;  it 
was  all  about  the  coronation  oath ;  the  Dean  said  that  if  the 
King  was  to  consent  to  an  act  for  admitting  Roman  Catholics 
to  sit  in  Parliament,  he  would  be  guilty  of  flat  perjury,  and  ought 
to  lose  his  ears,  sir,  as  well  as  forfeit  his  throne.  He  thumped 
the  counter,  sir,  till  the  snuff  rlew  out  of  the  canisters,  and  made 
Mrs.  Hopkins  and  her  daughter  sneeze  and  run  out  of  the  shop ; 
but  they  were  frightened,  too,  I  believe,  by  the  Dean's  loud  voice 
and  the  way  he  thumped  the  counter." 

"Well,"  said  the  Vicar,  "  and  what  did  Matthew  say?" 

"  Mat  was  very  respectful,  sir,  as  he  always  is  to  people  above 
him,  and  to  the  clergy  particularly;  but  he  was  very  firm  also, 
and  stood  up  for  his  own  opinions  like  an  honest  man ;  he  kept 
his  temper,  sir,  which  I  am  sorry  to  say  the  Dean  did  not ;  for 
he  ended  with  calling  Mat  a  Papist,  and  went  away  without  so 
much  as  wishing  him  a  civil  good  morning." 

"  Was  this  before  the  pecuniary  transaction,  or  after  it  ?" 
inquired  Mr.  Medlicott,  with  his  modicum  of  dry  humour  twink 
ling  in  his  eye. 

"  After  it,  sir,  after  it ;  the  Dean,  sir,  had  the  five  thousand 
pounds,  (or  the  order  for  the  money,  which  was  just  as  good,) 
in  his  pocket,  sir,  at  the  moment  he  was  abusing  Mat,  and  call 
ing  him  twenty  Papists." 


16  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

"  That  was  too  bad,"  said  Mr.  Medlicott,  looking  at  his  watch, 
and  extending  his  hand  to  Mr.  Broad  to  bid  him  a  good  evening. 

The  sun  had  set  before  the  Vicar  and  Reuben  were  on  the 
road  home  again  through  the  winding  lanes.-  The  Vicar  mused, 
the  greater  part  of  the  way,  upon  the  strange  peculiarities  and 
contrasts  of  his  father-in-law's  character,  while  Reuben,  trotting 
by  his  side,  speculated  on  the  capacity  of  his  new  trunk  for  hold 
ing  his  clothes  and  his  books,  and  packed  and  repacked  it  twenty 
times  over  in  his  busy  imagination. 


CHAPTER  III    • 

THK  NIGHT  BEFORE   REUBEN   WENT   TO   SCHOOL:    HOW   tTIS  TIATR  WAB 
CUT,  AND   WHO    WAS   THE   IIAIK-CUTTEi:. 

THE  Dean  was  indeed  the  guest  of  Canon  OUlport  at  the  time, 
as  Mr.  Broad  and  the  Vicar  supposed.  The  Canon  was  an  old 
bachelor,  who  had  a  tolerably  good  library,  and  kept  only  too 
good  a  table;  for,  between  the  sedentary  habits  of  the  student 
and  the  bon-vivant,  he  had  generally  two  tits  of  the  gout  in  the 
year;  while,  in  the  intervals,  he  was  so  alllicted  with  corns,  that, 
in  fact,  he  might  be  said  to  pass  his  whole  life  in  his  elbow-chair. 
Accordingly,  being  passionately  fond  of  gossip  and  conversation, 
he  was  always  delighted  when  a  neighbour,  or  old  college  ac 
quaintance  dropped  in  to  dine,  or  spend  a  few  days  with  him. 
His  gn-atcst  friend  was  Wyndham,  and  yet  the  Dean  was  so 
troublesome  a  guest  that  the  Canon  was  generally  as  well  pleased 
when  he  left  his  house  as  when  he  came  to  it.  The  Dean  turned 
every  house  he  entered  topsy-turvy;  but  he  provoked  Oldport 
most  by  his  unceremonious  way  of  tumbling  about  his  books, 
which  kept  the  Canon  in  a  continual  fret,  particularly  as  the 
Dean  never  restored  a  volume  to  its  place,  so  that  his  friend  was 
continually  hobbling  after  him,  to  keep  his  library  in  order. 

One  evening,  while  the  Dean  continued  Old  port's  guest,  it 
suddenly  occurred  to  him  to  pay  the  Medlicotta  a  visit;  and  ac 
cordingly,  leaving  the  Canon  to  drink  his  wine  alone,  (the  thing 
of  .'ill  others  least  agreeable  to  him.)  Dr.  Wyndham  took  up  his 
huge  gold-headed  cane,  and  strode  across  the  fields  to  the  Vicar 
age.  He  was  a  man  of  huge  frame  and  gladiatorial  muscle, 


OR,  THE   COMIXG  MAN.  17 

Nature  seemed  to  have  designed  him  for  physical,  as  well  as 
polemical  conflicts.  He  valued  himself,  indeed,  on  his  personal 
strength  as  much  as  upon  his  prowess  in  controversy,  and  was 
particularly  proud  of  his  pedestrian  powers.  He  had  such  a  pair 
of  legs  as  Hogarth  would  have  given  to  an  Irish  chairman,  or 
Wilkie  to  one  of  the  swarthy  demon-like  coal-whippers  to  be 
seen  issuing  from  those  black  arches  in  the  Strand,  which  might 
well  be  imagined  to  form  the  regular  communications  between 
London  and  the  nether  world. 

The  Vicar  was  watering  his  plants,  apparently  screened  from 
public  observation  by  a  close  hedge  of  beech,  nearly  six  feet  high, 
which  separated  his  garden  from  the  road,  when  he  heard  a  well- 
known  rough  stentorian  voice  call  out — 

"  Medlicott,  you  know  no  more  of  gardening  than  you  do  of 
Newton's  Principia.  I'll  show  you  how  to  watvr,  when  you  think 
proper  to  let  me  in." 

The  Vicar  looked  up,  and  beheld  the  broad  pugnacious  face 
of  his  wife's  father,  with  an  immense  aquiline  nose,  and  an  acre 
of  well-shaven  skin,  the  whole  overshadowed  by  a  shovel-hat 
with  a  particularly  intolerant  cock,  peering  at  him  over  the  hedge, 
which  he  was  well  able  to  do  without  standing  on  tip-toe.  Hav 
ing  hospitably  welcomed  his  distinguished  relative  and  visitor, 
he  ventured  to  observe,  good-humouredly,  that  lied  id  presume  to 
know  something  of  a  garden,  though  he  was  an  humble  vicar, 
and  had  all  his  life  been  ready  to  receive  instruction  from  any 
one  who  was  so  competent  to  afford  it,  on  most  subjects,  as  the 
Dean.  As  he  spoke,  he  hastened  to  open  a  small  wicket  door 
in  the  hedge  to  admit  the  dignitary,  who  instantly  thrust  him 
self  in,  stooping  more  than  was  necessary,  and  observing  that  it 
would  not  have  cost  five  shillings  more  to  have  made  the  door  a 
couple  of  inches  higher. 

The  Vicar  again  meekly  smiled,  and  excused  the  door  by  ob 
serving,  that  there  was  not  such  a  tall  man  as  Dr.  Wyndham  in 
the  parish  of  Underwood,  or,  he  believed,  in  the  diocese. 

"Give  me  the  watering-pot,"  cried  the  Doctor,  without  no 
ticing  (he  Vicar's  apology,  although  so  flattering  to  his  person, 
u  and  go  you  in  and  tell  Elinor  I  am  come  to  take  tea." 

"  My  wife  is  somewhere  about  the  garden,"  said  the  Vicar. 

"  Go  and  find  her,"  said  the  Dean. 

The  Vicar  obeyed,  and  in  a  few  minutes  returned  with  his 
wife  and  son,  who  were  followed  at  a  cautious  distance  by  Hannah 
Hopkins,  the  Quakeress,  and  her  daughter  Mary,  a  fair,  round, 


18  THE    UNIVERSAL     6ENIUS  ; 

cosy  girl,  with  a  most  irnquakerlike  expression  of  mirtL  in  her 
eye,  and  a  trick  of  laughing  equally  unbecoming  of  her  solemn 
sect.  Hannah  Hopkins,  who  had  already  (as  we  have  seen) 
met  the  Dean  in  Matthew  Cos's  shop,  and  been  so  frightened  by 
his  violent  deportment,  felt  very  much  inclined  to  make  her 
retreat  when  she  heard  his  name  mentioned,  but  the  Vicar  had 
overruled  her,  as  she  had  had  a  long  walk  and  come  expressly  to 
take  tea.  Mrs.  Mcdlit.ott,  with  Reuben,  hast  wed  forward  to  wel 
come  her  father,  whose  arrival  was  not  entirely  unexpected,  as  it 
was  known  lie  was  in  the  neighbourhood.  Both  mother  and  son 
were  proud  to  excess  of  the  Dean's  talents  and  reputation.  You 
could  see  it  in  their  faces;  but  you  might  also  have  perceived 
that  they  were  fluttered  as  well  as  gratified  by  his  visit.  They 
found  him,  however,  a,  little  crest-fallen,  and  somewhat  in  the 
state  that  is  called  a  pickle.  He  had  got  himself  into  a  scrape 
by  his  conceited  meddling,  for  stooping  too  low  to  replenish  the 
watering-pot  in  the  well,  his  shovel-hat  had  fallen  into  it,  and  ho 
was  now  fishing  for  it  with  a  rake.  Mary  Hopkins  laughed  most 
irreverently.  Old  Hannah  shook  her  head  at  her.  She  was  a 
tall,  gaunt,  elderly  woman,  with  the  parched  brown  complexion 
of  an  ancient  gipsy ;  she  wore  steel  spectacles  on  her  nose,  and  her 
bony  hands  were  furnished  with  knitting-needles,  which  were  never 
idle,  making  or  mending  some  garter,  mitten,  or  worsted  stocking. 

She  shook  her  head  at  her  daughter  when  she  laughed,  and 
it  was  an  awful  sight  to  her  scholars  when  Hannah  Hopkins 
shook  her  head,  though  by  no  means  an  infallible  cure  for 
laughter  in  other  cases.  The  Dean,  however,  took  no  notice  of 
either  mother  or  daughter,  but  having  recovered  his  hat  com 
menced  whirling  and  swinging  it  about,  without  thinking  much 
of  the  sprinkling  he  gave  any  of  the  party.  As  to  poor  Mrs. 
Medlicott,  she  got  so  much  of  the  cold  spray,  that  she  was  forced 
to  cry  out  for  mercy,  and  cover  her  face  and  bosom  with  her 
hands.  Mary  Hopkins  caught  some  of  it  too,  and  it  &et  her 
laughing  again,  though  she  did  her  best  to  repress  it. 

"The  hat's  not  much  the  worse,"  he  said,  bluffly  shaking 
hands  with  his  daughter  and  grandson  ;  he  was  evidently  quieted 
by  his  little  mishap,  and  said  no  more  of  watering  or  of  garden 
ing  that  evening.  The  room  where  the  tea  was  prepared  was  a 
small  one,  and  the  table  where  it  was  spread  was  small  likewise. 
When  the  great  churchman  was  seated,  it  seemed  as  if  there 
were  no  room  for  anybody  else.  Yet  two  of  the  party  had  dis 
appeared.  What  had  become  of  the  Quakeresses? 


OK,  THE   COMING  MAN.  19 

"  What  lias  become  of  Hannah  and  Mary  ?"  asked  the  Vicar, 
coking  all  round  about  him. 

"  They  wore  just  behind  UP,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott. 

"  They  came  to  tea,"  said  Reuben. 

Reuben  was  greatly  concerned,  and,  running  in  all  directions, 
searched  the  garden  for  them,  but  he  searched  in  vain  ;  for  the 
timorous  Quakeresses  had  slipped  away  unperceived  through  the 
wicket  in  the  hedge;  Hannah  Hopkins  dreading  another  IKI- 
timely  explosion  of  mirth  on  the  part  of  the  fair  fat  Mary,  and 
not  knowing  what  awful  consequences  might  follow,  should  the 
formidable  Dean  suspect  that  he  was  the  subject  of  it. 

"  Gone  without  their  tea !"  said  the  Vicar,  when  his  son  re 
turned  from  his  unavailing  search. 

"  And  without  their  flowers,"  said  Reuben,  who  had  gathered 
an  immense  nosegay  for  his  old  schoolmistress  and  her  daughter. 

The  Dean  now,  addressing  himself  to  nobody  in  particular, 
launched  out  into  a  philippic  on  the  Quakers,  their  habits,  and  their 
doctrines,  belaboring  Fox  and  Penn  without  mercy,  and  promising 
to  administer  a  still  more  elaborate  castigation  to  the  whole  So 
ciety  of  Friends  upon  some  future  occasion — a  promise  which  ho 
lived  to  redeem.  Poor  Medlicott  had  generally  a  good  word  to 
say  for  the  Quakers,  but  he  rarely  ventured  to  controvert  any 
opinion  of  Dr.  Wymlham's,  and  upon  the  present  occasion  ho 
observed  a  most  servile  silence. 

»  Some  time  elapsed  before  Mrs.  Medlicott  succeeded  in  draw 
ing  her  father's  attention  to  Reuben,  and  to  the  interesting  fact 
that  the  very  next  day  was  fixed  for  his  departure  for  school. 

"  So  you  are  taking  my  advice  at  last ;  you  ought,  to  have 
taken  it  long  ago,"  he  cried,  addressing  both  parents,  but  looking 
at  neither,  which  was  no  deviation  from  his  ordinary  manners  in 
society.  He  then  fell  upon  the  eatables  on  the  table,  as  if  his 
friend  the  Canon  had  given  him  no  dinner,  talking  loudly  and 
volubly,  on  the  subject  of  public  schools  in  tl  e  necessary  intervals 
of  eating,  and  sometimes  during  the  process,  relating  his  own  ex 
ploits  at  Harrow,  and  further,  to  encourage  Reuben,  giving  Lvcly 
and  forcible  descriptions  of  the  discipline  which,  at  that  period, 
was  in  vogue  in  most  English  seminaries  of  any  notoriety. 

"  Quorum  pars  magna  fui,"  said  the  Doctor.  "  It  was  through 
the  birch  I  made  my  way  to  the  laurel.  It  was  whipped  into 
me."  Reuben  blushed,  and  felt  excessively  uncomfortable  all 
)ver.  His  mother  felt  uneasy  also  ;  yet  she  could  not  but  reflect 
'•ith  pleasure  that  her  son's  passion  for  study  would  necessarily 


20  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

enable  him  to  reach  the  laurel  without  passing  through  the  other 
grove  alluded  to  by  his  grandfather. 

"  I  was  a  Goth  when  I  was  a  boy,"  continued  the  Doctor, 
still  stuffing  himself.  "  I  hated  books ;  I  was  a  foe  to  learning ; 
I  was  a  Goth  and  a  Visigoth.  It  was  whipped  out  of  me." 

"  But  Reuben  does  not  hate  books,  or  learning,  father,"  said 
Mis.  Medlicott  with  a  sort  of  nervous  playfulness,  for  she  was 
always  timid  in  her  father's  presence,  and  spoke  in  a  subdued 
way,  which  she  was  not  so  much  in  the  habit  of  using  with  her 
husband. 

"  Perhaps  it  would  bo  better  if  he  did :  boys  are  boys,  a 
learned  boy  is  as  great  a  monster  as  an  ignorant  man.  I  am 
afraid,  Elinor,  you  have  been  stuffing  your  son's  head  with  too 
many  things.  I  have  known  men  ruined  by  cleverness,  but  I 
never  knew  a  man  ruined  by  dulness."  The  Vicar  shrugged  his 
shoulders  and  expressed  his  full  concurrence  in  this  opinion. 

Mrs.  Medlicott  was  now  moved  :  she  took  off  her  blue  spec 
tacles,  as  she  always  did  when  she  was  about  to  do  or  say  any 
thing  with  particular  energy  or  seriousness  (probably  lest  they 
should  fall  from  her  nose),  and  laid  them  beside  her  on  the  tea- 
table.  This  done,  she  remarked  with  some  spirit,  and  even  a 
little  irritation,  "  that  it  was  rather  hard  she  should  now  be 
blamed  for  misdirecting  her  son's  studies,  as  she  had  never  acted 
on  her  sole  responsibility,  and  particularly  as  Reuben  was  quite 
as  forward  as  other  boys  in  his  Greek  and  Latin,  while  over  most 
children  of  his  age  he  had  a  decided  advantage  in  many  other 
branches  of  knowledge,  which  she  had  often  heard  her  father  him 
self  say,  were  too  much  neglected  in  public  schools." 

»  "  The  boy  will  do  well  enough,  I  dare  say,"  cried  the  Dean, 
cutting  his  daughter  short.  Then  turning  to  Reuben,  he  added 
— "  you  must  do  your  grandfather  credit,  sir." 

"  That's  what  I  often  tell  him,"  said  the  Vicar. 

"  I  trust,  father,  he  will  do  you  credit,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott 
more  emphatically ;  "it  is  my  prayer  that  he  may,  and  I  believe 
it  is  his  own  earnest  wish.  Is  it  not,  Reuben  ?" 

"  It  is,  mother,"  answered  her  son  very  frankly  and  hand 
somely.  His  manner  pleased  even  the  rugged  dignitary,  who 
called  the  tall  bashful  boy  over  to  him,  patted  his  fair  head,  and 
gave  him  a  great  many  valuable  pieces  of  advice  for  his  conduct 
at  school,  both  in  his  behaviour  to  his  teachers  and  his  fellow- 
scholars,  ending  by  reminding  him  that  he  had  nothing  but  his 
talents  and  industry  to  depgnd  on  for  his  advancement  in  life. 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  21 

u  What  can  your  father  do  for  you — a  poor  church-mouse  of  a 

vicar?" 

"  He  can  only  leave  you  his  blessing  and  the  family  Bible," 
added  the  Vicar  humbly. 

"  We  must  rely  upon  Providence,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott,  with 
a  sigh,  but  at  the  same  time  with  a  complacent  smile  on  her  son, 
as  if  she  had  not  much  doubt  of  his  success  in  life. 

"  Very  right,"  said  the  Dean,  "  but  Providence  only  provides 
for  the  provident ;  never  forget  that." 

"  Very  true,"  said  the  Vicar. 

"  Very  striking,"  said  his  wife. 

"I'll  have  another  cup  of  tea,"  said  Dr.  Wyndham,  pushing 
his  cup  towards  his  daughter.  He  drank  tea  like  Dr.  Johnson 
when  the  tea-drinking  lit  was  on  him,  but  he  was  sometimes 
equally  violent  in  his  love  of  coffee. 

"  Well,"  said  the  Vicar  cheerily,  after  a  moment's  halt  in  the 
conversation,  "  if  Reuben  goes  into  the  Church,  which  he  probably 
will,  he  won't  Avant  a  friend  there  to  give  him  a  push  in  the 
world." 

"  Let  nobody  expect  to  rise  by  holding  my  skirts,"  said  the 
Dean  dryly  and  pompously;  "my  head  is  as  hard  to  be  fitted 
with  a  mitre  as  parson  Yorick's." 

"  Nothing  is  impossible,"  said  the  Vicar,  somewhat  mala- 
droitly. 

"  Nothing's  impossible,  of  course,"  rejoined  the  Dean ;  "  if 
you  go  to  possibility,  you  may  be  a  bishop  yourself  one  of  these 
days." 

"  The  Vicar  laughed  at  this  rude  speech,  as  if  it  was  a  capital 
joke,  while  the  old  gentleman  began  abruptly  to  talk  a  great 
deal  about  his  friends  the  Barsacs,  abusing  their  house  and  their 
society,  but  extolling  the  people  themselves,  especially  one  of  the 
Miss  Barsacs,  whose  name  was  Blanche,  and  whom  the  Dean 
called  a  sensible  good  girl  twenty  times  over,  and  more  than  once 
an  angel.  The  13arsacs,  he  said,  were  only  too  attentive  to  the 
Finchley  boys:  they  would  be  kind  to  Reuben  as  a  matter  of 
course. 

The  sun  was  now  setting  behind  a  row  of  great  old  yews 
which  stood  at  the  top  of  the  sloping  garden  of  the  Vicarage, 
separating  it  from  the  thurch-yard,  and  as  the  level  beams  fell 
on  the  fair  hair  of  young  Reuben,  they  attracted  the  attention 
of  his  grandfather  to  its  feminine  beauty  and  abundance. 

"  Come,  Elinor,"  he  cried  to  his  daughter,  "  you  are  not  going 


22  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  | 

to  send  the  boy  to  school  with  this  ridiculous  head  of  hair;  why, 
his  school-fellows  will  use  him  for  a  Pope's  head." 

"  It  is  too  long,"  said  the  Vicar.  Mrs.  Medlicott  herself  could 
not  dispute  it.  The  hair  was  the  colour  of  her  own  to  the  nicest 
shade,  which  perhaps  was  one  of  the  causes  of  the  favour  iu 
which  she  held,  and  the  care  with  which  she  had  cherished  it, 

"  Is  there  no  hair-cutter  in  the  village,  eh  ?"  pursued  the  Doc 
tor,  looking  furiously,  at  the  golden  locks. 

"  Not  nearer  than  Chichester,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott,  "  indeed 
I  should  have  had  it  cut  before,  but  now  it  is  too  late." 

"Too  late,  fudge!  why  don't  you  cut  it  yourself |" 

"Oh,  father,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott,  laughing,  "I  should  be  a 
very  awkward  coiffeuse :  I  wouldn't  undertake  it  for  the  world." 

"  Undertake  it !  Where's  the  difficulty  ?  hand  me  a  pair  of 
scissors;  I'm  a  capital  hair-cutter;  I  always  cut  my  own  at 
College — hand  me  those  scissors,  boy."  Imagine  a  Roman  dic 
tator,  Furfus  Camillus  for  instance,  issuing  his  orders. 

Reuben  smiled,  coloured,  glanced  at  his  mother,  then  looked 
fearfully  at  his  grandfather,  and  finally  handed  the  scissors.  It 
was  the  affair  of  a  moment.  You  know  the  sound  that  sharp 
steel  makes  passing  through  masses  of  crisp  curls. 

"  Now  don't,  dear  father  ;  don't,"  cried  Mrs.  Medlicott,  jump 
ing  up  and  running  round  the  table.  "I'll  do  it  myself, — don't 
father,  don't, — you  might  have  allowed  me." 

The  bright  hair  was  tumbling  on  the  floor  in  bunches,  while 
the  mother  was  thus  interceding  for  it  idly,  for  her  father's  huge 
hands  wielded  the  shears  as  ruthlessly  as  those  of  Atropos. 

The  Vicar  was  pleased,  but  he  enjoyed  his  satisfaction  in 
silence.  As  to  Reuben,  he  was  man  enough  to  have  borne  the 
loss  of  his  superfluous  ringlets,  for  in  truth  they  were  an  incum- 
branc'e  and  inconvenience  to  him  ;  but  when  he  saw  that  his  mother 
was  really  agitated  and  vexed  at  his  grandfather's  violent  pro 
ceedings,  the  tears  stood  in  his  eyes,  and  it  was  with  SOIIIQ  diffi 
culty  he  prevented  them  from  joining  his  hair  on  the  carpet. 

The  Vicar  accompanied  the  dignitary  for  about  a  mile  of  the 
way  back  to  the  house  were  he  was  quartered,  the  latter  walk 
ing  with  immense  strides,  talking  volubly  and  vehemently  all 
the  time ;  and  the  former  a  short-winded  pursy  little  man, 
trying  ineffectually  to  keep  the  pace,  and  equally  unsuccessful  in 
his  efforts  to  take  part  in  the  conversation.  At  length  they  came 
to  a  point  where  the  Dean  was  to  cross  a  stile  to  take  a  short 
cut  through  the  fields  ;  and  here  he  suddenly  missed  some  pa- 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  23 

pers,  no  less  important  than  a  sermon  which  he  was  to  preach 
in  the  Cathedral  of  Chich ester  the  following  Sunday.  The  pa 
pers  ought  to  have  been  in  his  hat,  and  as  they  were  not  there, 
the  probability  was  that  they  were  in  the  pond,  or  well,  in  the 
Vicar's  garden. 

"  Have  you  ducks  ?"  cried  the  Dean,  astride  on  the  stile. 

**  No,"  said  the  Vicar  laughing  ;  "it's  not  a  pond,  only  a  well." 

"Well,  there's  one  well  in  the  world,"  said  the  Dean  :  "  one 
at  least  that  realises  the  old  proverb,  and  you  may  now  boast, 
Medlicott,  that  you  have  got  it  in  your  garden." 

"  I'll  recover  the  sermon,"  said  the  Vicar ;  "  it  won't  be  a 
dry  discourse  at  all  events." 

"  I  make  you  a  present  of  it,"  said  the  Dean.  "  Preach  it  to 
the  people  of  Underwood." 

"  I'll  take  you  at  your  word,  sir,"  said  the  Vicar,  "  and  the 
present  is  very  acceptable,  for  I  have  been  so  engrossed  by  send 
ing  Reuben  to  school,  that  I  have  had  no  time  to  compose  a  ser 
mon  of  my  own  for  next  Sunday." 

Mrs.  Medlicott  and  her  son  had  strolled  foi;th  also  to  enjoy  the 
remnant  of  a  beautiful  evening  more  agreeably  in  the  fresh  air, 
and  neighbouring  fields,  than  in  the  feverish  atmosphere  of  a 
room,  which  had  been  twice  heated  by  the  steam  of  the  tea 
kettle,  and  the  presence  of  a  great  controversial  divine.  Mrs. 
Medlicott  had  of  course  many  prudent  maternal  cautions  to 
impress,  and  many  sage  injunctions  to  impose  upon  the 
young  adventurer  who  was  about  to  quit  her  side  for  the 
first  time;  and  Reuben,  on  his  part,  had  promises  to  make, 
resolutions  to  form,  and  projects,  enterprises,  visions,  specu 
lations,  hopes,  and  dreams  to  communicate.  One  of  the 
pledges  now  exacted  by  Mrs.  Medlicott,  with  the  greatest  earnest 
ness,  was  that  the  boy  would  not  over-tax  his  strength  by  too 
much  anxiety  to  improve  himself,  or  even  to  please  his  parents ; 
he  was  young,  and  there  was  time  enough  before  him  for  all  the 
purposes  of  life ;  he  was  highly  intellectual — she  might  venture 
now  to  tell  him  so — and  the  drudgery,  which  with  inferior  facul 
ties  might  be  indispensable,  was  in  his  case  not  only  needless, 
but  was  calculated  to  defeat  the  very  object  of  study. 

"But  there  will  be  time  enough  for  every  thing,"  said 
Reuben  ;  "  I  need  not  forget  my  French,  or  my  German,  or 
my  geology,  or  my  botany,  or  anything  you  have  taught  me, 
mother  ;  although  I  promise  you  I  will  attend  chiefly  to  my  school 
business,  and  not  neglect  my  health." 


24  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

"  That  is  all  that  I  ask,  my  love,"  said  the  tall  matron,  look 
ing  down  with  maternal  pride  upon  her  son  through  her  blue 
spectacles,  and  bitterly  sighing  when  she  missed  his  hyacinthine 
curls. 

"  I  should  not  be  happy,  mother,"  pursued  Reuben,  "  if  I 
were  to  feel  myself  forgetting  anything  you  have  had  the  trouble 
of  teaching  me." 

"  My  dear  boy,"  said  his  mother,  after  a  pause,  during  which 
she  collected  herself  for  one  of  her  speeches,  "  now  that  I  am  sa 
tisfied  you  will  be  prudent,  believe  me  I  do  not  want  to  disguise 
from  you  the  immeasurable  extent  of  the  field  of  human  know 
ledge,  and  the  innumerable  provinces  of  the  mind,  (for  really  they 
are  innumerable,)  in  which  the  triumphs  of  literature  and  science 
are  to  be  won.  I  have  often  told  you — have  I  not  ? — I  think  I 
have — the  opinion  I  entertain  of  the  vast  capacity  of  our  intel 
lects,  and  my  conviction  that  there  is  infinitely  more  than  enough 
room  in  your  brain,  for  example,  Reuben,  or  in  mine,  for  all  the 
learning  that  ever  was  acquired,  and  all  the  sciences  that  ever 
were  invented.  Our  minds,  my  dear,  you  must  never  forget,  are 
not  only  immortal,  but  infinite.  When  you  have  read  Locke's 
Essays  and  Browne's  Philosophy  of  the  Mind,  you  will  have 
clearer  notions  of  what  immortality  and  infinity  mean.  There 
is  nothing  so  important,  dear  Reuben,  as  to  have  clear  and  precise 
ideas  upon  every  subject ;  but  to  return  to  what  I  was  saying,  I 
am  inclined  to  believe  that  Plato,  the  divine  Plato,  held  pretty 
much  the  same  opinions  that  I  have  expressed,  or  tried  to  ex 
press,  on  the  vastness  and  variety  of  the  human  capacity.  I  have 
really  sometimes  thought  of  comparing  the  human  mind  to  an 
infinite  kaleidoscope." 

"  I  long  to  read  Plato,"  said  Reuben. 

u  He  is  a  glorious  writer  and  philosopher,"  said  the  blue 
lady  ;  "  you  will  study  him  at  College." 

"  Not  till  then,"  said  Reuben,  with  a  sigh  ;  "  but  tell  me, 
mother,"  he  added,  "  was  my  grandfather  so  very  dull  at  school 
as  he  says  he  was  ?  Was  he  a  Goth,  and  a  Visigoth  ?" 

"  Your  grandfather,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott,  smiling, 
"  like  most  very  energetic  men,  sometimes  speaks  in  a  strain  of 
exaggeration ;  you  must  receive  his  statements,  therefore,  cum 
grano,  or  with  a  grain  of  allowance  for  this  peculiar  feature  in 
his  idiosyncracy  ; — no,  my  dear,  he  was,  I  believe,  one  of  the 
very  cleverest  boys  at  Harrow,  though  idle  and  refractory  perhaps 
at  times,  which  accounts  for  the  experience  he  told  y*ou  he  had 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  25 

of  the  severities  of  academic  discipline."  Here  a  winged  i^etle 
gave  Mrs.  Medlicott  a  bob  in  the  face,  and  brought,her  prema 
turely  to  a  stop. 

"  I  will  make  it  my  study,  mother,  to  resemble  him,"  said 
Reuben,  solemnly. 

"  Not  in  being  idle  and  refractory,  I  hope,"  said  Mrs.  Medli 
cott,  smiling ; — she  was  seldom  so  jocular — "  but  who  is  this  ap 
proaching  us  ?  it  has  grown  so  dark  that  we  shall  scarcely  have 
light  to  get  home.  Those  coleopterous  insects  are  exceedingly 
annoying :  it  is  owing,  you  may  remember,  to  the  peculiar 
structure  of  their  visual  organs." 

The  personage  thus  dimly  descried  in  the  twilight,  was  the 
Vicar  who,  while  he  accompanied  them  back  to  the  glebe,  in 
formed  them  of  the  watery  doom  of  the  Doctor's  papers.  Mrs. 
Medlicott  was  greatly  excited  at  the  thought  of  the  possible  loss 
of  any  production  of  her  father's,  and  her  excitement  was  caught 
by  Reuben,  who  ran  forward  with  impetuosity  to  procure  a 
lantern  from  the  kitchen,  to  guide  them  to  the  well,  where  in 
deed  the  papers  were  found  floating,  as  was  anticipated,  just 
where  they  had  tumbled  out  of  the  shovel-hat.  Mrs.  Medlicott, 
herself,  took  possession  of  them,  and  dried  them  carefully  with  her 
handkerchief,  and  afterwards  at  the  kitchen  fire,  before  she  went 
to  bed.  The  Vicar  entertained  a  momentary  design  of  sitting 
up  to  read  the  sermon,  of  which  he  was  now  the  owner,  but 
whether  it  was  the  reflection  that  it  was  his  own  property,  or 
that  he  was  unaccustomed  to  reading  by  candlelight,  he  gave 
up  the  task  after  nodding  over  it  for  a  few  minutes,  and  retired 
to  his  pillow  likewise. 

We  shall  not  hear  of  this  sermon  again  for  some  years. 
When  it  came  to  the  point,  the  Vicar  found  it  no  easy  matter  to 
reconcile  it  with  his  conscience  to  palm  his  father-in-law's  learn 
ing  and  eloquence  upon  his  parishioners  as  his  own. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MES.  MEDLICOTT  BORROWS  MRS.  WINNING'S  FRENCH   MAID.      BBTTBBJl 
LEAVES   HOME,  AND  OTHER  IMPORANT  INCIDENTS. 

ALL  theiincidents  of  that  evening  made  a  deep  impression  on  the 
mind  of  young  Reuben, — the  sudden  panic  flight  of  the  old 
Quaker  and  her  daughter, — the  cutting  of  hjs  hajr  by  lys  rude 

61 


26  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

and  eccentric  grandfather, — the  rescue  of  the  sermon  from  drown 
ing,  but  his  last  walk  and  conversation  with  his  mother  more 
than  all  the  rest. 

The  boy  loved  his  mother  with  more  than  ordinary  tender 
ness;  they  had  indeed  been  fellow-students  more  than  pupil  and 
preceptress,  and  his  attachment  to  her  was  almost  identified  with 
his  ardour  for  the  various  studies  into  which  she  had  not  very 
discreetly  initiated  him.  The  worst  of  such  instruction  was  that 
his  lights  were  taken  upon  most  subjects  from  one  whose  own 
mind  was  far  from  being  luminous  enough  to  undertake  the  en 
lightenment  of  others.  Mrs.  Medlicott  was  not  at  all  more  logi 
cal  in  her  habits  of  reasoning,  or  precise  in  her  notions,  than  the 
large  majority  of  woman-kind,  although  the  range  of  her  read 
ing  was  so  general  and  so  ambitious.  Her  understanding  at  the 
brightest  was  but  a  sort  of  shining  mist.  The  knowledge  she 
possessed,  or  what  she  called  knowledge,  was  nine  parts  out  of 
ten  either  an  affair  of  the  memory,  or  the  imagination.  These 
were  also,  of  course,  the  provinces  of  Reuben's  intellect,  which 
had  been  most  industriously  cultivated ;  so  that  in  his  case,  un 
questionably,  it  would  have  been  better  if  the  old  routine  of  in 
struction  had  been  adhered  to,  and  if  the  white  paper,  to  which 
Locke  compares  the  human  mind  before  the  reception  of  ideas, 
had  not  been  so  extensively  scrawled  over  with  hieroglyphics,  by 
the  hand  of  a  vain  self-opinionated  woman.  Let  a  woman,  how 
ever,  be  ever  so  blue,  she  is  still  a  woman.  She  does  not  put 
off  her  own  sex,  when  she  encroaches  on  the  prerogatives  and 
pursuits  of  ours.  Of  this  Reuben's  mother  now  afforded  a  re 
markable  example.  Among  many  other  subjects  of  maternal 
solicitude  which  harassed  the  mind  of  Mrs.  Medlicott  that  night, 
the  rape  of  her  s'on's  locks  was  not  forgotten,  and  the  uncouth 
_  figure  he  now  made  haunted  her  imagination,  and  even  disturbed 
her  rest.  She  was  apprehensive  of  making  matters  worse  if  she 
tried  with  her  own  hands  to  mend  them,  but  was  there  no  other 
resource  ?  Must  Reuben  actually  go  to  school  with  that  shock 
ing  head  of  hair,  looking  as  if  he  had  been  trimmed  with  a 
hatchet,  as  Charon  in  Lucian  was  accustomed  to  trim  the  beards 
of  the  philosophers  ?  Reuben's  departure  stood  fixed  for  a  late 
hour  on  the  following  day,  so  there  was  time  left  for  a  little 
management,  if  she  could  only  think  what  to  do  There  is  no 
thing  like  thinking  perseveringly  and  doggedly  when  you  are  in 
a  dilemma.  Things  are  very  desperate  when  nothing  comes  of 
persevering  dogged  thinking.  Mrs.  Medlicott  thought  so  long 


27 

that  she  thought  at  length  of  her  neighbour,  Mrs.  Winning  of 
Sunbury,  and  recollected  that  she  had  lately  returned  from  a  con 
tinental  tour,  bringing  with  her  to  England  a  treasure  of  a  young 
French/  femme-de-chambre,  who  was  already  celebrated  in  the 
neighbourhood,  both  for  her  cleverness  and  her  beauty.  Mrs. 
Medlicott  jumped  out  of  bed  in  the  morning  long  before  the  Vi 
car  had  given. any  signs  of  life,  and  wrote  a  long  note  to  her 
friend,  detailing  the  misfortune  that  had  befallen  Reuben,  and 
begging  a  loan  of  her  maid  for  a  few  hours  to  help  her  out  of 
the  difficulty,  for  Mademoiselle  was  of  comv-e  an  expert  coiffeme. 
This  note  was  entrusted  to  an  out-door  servant,  who  was  ordered 
to  take  the  Vicar's  mare  to  convey  it,  and  to  furnish  the  animal 
with  a  side-saddle  for  the  accommodation  of  the  French  maid, 
the  distance  being  something  too  much  for  a  walk.  The  clock 
of  Underwood  Church,  (the  tower  of  which  was  just  visible  above 
the  line  of  the  old  yews,)  had  just  gone  seven,  when  the  servant 
with  the  mare  and  side-saddle  set  out  on  his  odd  commission. 

There  was  great  excitement  that  morning  at  the-  Vicarage, 
and  it  commenced  at  an  early  hour,  many  of  Reuben's  old  friends 
coming  to  bid  him  adieu,  and  present  him  with  little  tokens  of 
affection,  to  keep  themselves  green,  in  his  memory  when  he  was 
far  away. 

First  to  arrive  were  the  simple  Quaker  school-mistress  and 
her  cosy  daughter,  no  longer  daunted — poor  timid  hares — by  the 
overbearing  Dean,  with  his  thundering  voice,  and  church-militant 
manners.  As  they  came  early  and  stayed  long,  we  have  time 
to  observe  them  better  than  when  we  met  them  last.  One  was 
never  seen  without  the  other;  they  were  inseparable  even  in 
thought,  like  chicken  and  tongue.  Two  bees  were  never  more 
industrious.  Their  business  was  teaching,  their  relaxation  needle 
work.  If  they  had  a  passion,  it  was  for  flowers,  grasses,  and 
peacock's  feathers.  If  Mary  had  a  fault,  it  was  that  she  was  too 
merry  for  her  sect,  and  too  plump  for  her  stature.  If  Hannah 
had  her  imperfections,  they  leaned  to  the  side  of  literature,  like 
Mrs.  Medlicott's.  Mary  was  plain  in  her  attire  only ;  the  mother 
was  plain  in  every  sense,  includiag  plain-speaking  and  plain- 
dealing.  Her  school,  in  the  management  of  which  Mary  now 
bore  her  part,  was  her  principal  means  of  subsistence" ;  it  yielded 
them  but  a  scanty  income,  for  they  were  extremely  modest  in 
their  terms,  and  taught  the  children  of  people  who  were  as  poor 
as  themselves,  for  almost  nothing  at  all. 

What  she  taught  would  not  be  important  enough  to  men 
tion,  if  she  had  not  been  one  of  Reuben  Medlicott's  early  teachers* 


28  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

Her  course  included  reading,  writing,  and  arithmetic  as  far 
as  long  division  ;  she  never  puzzled  "her  pupils  with  the  rule  of 
three,  or  maddened  them  with  fractions.  Her  system  of  geogra 
phy  was  much  shorter  add  simpler  than  Humboklt's.  In  history 
she  taught  how  Alfred  burned  the  cake,  how  Clarence  was 
drowned  in  the  malmsey,  and  who  founded  the  state  of  Penn 
sylvania.  In  short,  she  taught  many  things  superficially,  aad 
stocking-knitting  profoundly.  But  she  was  perhaps  more  in  re 
pute  as  a  moralist,  than  for  merely  enlightening  the  mind.  In 
ethics  she  taught  that  honesty  is  the  best  policy,  that,  wilful  waste 
makes  woful  want,  that  idleness  is  the  mother  of  mischief,  and 
that  there  is  a  time  for  all  things  under  the  sun.  There  is  reason 
to  think  she  considered  this  last  maxim  the  corner-stone  of  the 
edifice  of  virtue,  she  repeated  and  insisted  on  it  so  very  frequently. 
Neither  of  the  Quakeresses  came  empty-handed.  Mary  brought 
a  silken  purse,  of  her  own  manufacture,  in  which  she  had  curi 
ously  interwoven  Reuben's  name,  and  very  tenderly,  as  well  as 
a  little  nervously,  did  she  present  him  with  it,  whispering,  while 
she  placed  it  in  his  hands,  that  she  trusted  he  would  be  happy 
where  he  was  goiog,  which  appeared  to  be  very  far  away.  Han 
nah  had  her  gift  also,  a  large  segment  of  a  certain  economical 
species  of  plum-cake,  made  with  her  own  hands  from  a  receipt 
handed  down  in  her  family  for  generations.  It  was  called  the 
"  cut-and-come-again  cake,"  and  was  particularly  in  demand  for 
the  quarterly  and  yearly  meetings. 

There  now  appeared  another  visitor,  one.  however,  who  came 
to  take  rather  than  to  give,  As  the  world  is  divided  between 
people  of  the  two  propensities.  The  new  comer  was  a  tall,  awk 
ward,  heavy  animal  of  a  boy,  somewhat  senior  to  Reuben,  the 
son  of  Mr.  Pigwidgeon,  the  family  apothecary,  who,  not  being  able 
to  come  himself,  sent  his  son  Theodore  with  a  present  of  a  box 
of  stomachic  pills,  and  a  commission  to  say  what  was  proper  on 
his  part,  which  perhaps  the  lad  would  have  tried  to  do,  had  not 
the  sight  of  the  cake  driven  all  other  thoughts  out  of  his  mind. 
His  arrival  was  evidently  a  bore  to  Reuben,  who  had  to  request 
Jhim  to  keep  his  intrusive  h^nds  out  of  his  trunk,  which  was 
packed,  but  still  open,  while  he  willingly  accepted  Mary  Hopkins's 
offer  to  put  the  things  in  order  again  which  had  been  deranged 
by  such  unmannerly  meddling.  Master  Pigwidgeou  then  kept 
hovering,  like  a  great  fly,  about  the  "  cut-and-come-again,"  and 
at  last  ventured  to  pick  at  the  enamelled  sugar  with  which  it  waa 
overlaid.  In  all  probability  he  would  soon  have  taken  much 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  29 

greater  freedom  with  it,  if  old  Hannah  had  not  suddenly  laid 
Hands  on  him,  and,  drawing  herself  up  to  her  full  height, 
addressed  him  with  a  severity  which  not  more- appalled  the  object 
of  it,  than  it  vastly  entertained  the  Vicar. 

"Go  thy  ways,"  she  cried,  shaking  her  head,  and  shaking  the 
delinquent  at  the  same  time,  "the  cake  is  not  for  thee ;  hadst 
thou  been  a  scholar  of  mine,  I  would  have  taught  thee  betimes 
to  keep  thy  hands  from  that  which  is  not  thine." 

The  tall  lubberly  youth  slunk  away  from  the  table  where  the 
cake  lay,  and  looked  so  abashed  and  frightened  that  Mrs.  Medli- 
cott  pitied  him,  and  gave  Reuben  a  hint  to  offer  him  a  piece  of 
the  cake,  which  the  generous  boy  did  in  the  promptest  and  most 
good-natured  manner.  Nor  was  Master  Theodore  Pigwidgeon 
too  proud  to  be  appeased  in  this  way,  though  he  preferred 
enjoying  his  share  of  the  cake  in  private,  and  stole  away  home, 
scarcely  bidding  his  benefactor  a  good-bye,  and  utterly  forgetting 
the  pills,  for  which  Reuben  perhaps  had  no  reason  to  be  seriously 
offended  with  him. 

Among  the  hours  and  half-hours  that  are  most  irksome  to 
pass  in  this  world  (such  as  the  half-hour  before  dinner,  or  before 
the  rising  of  the  curtain  at  the  play),  must  certainly  be  enumer 
ated  the  interval  that  elapses  between  the  completion  of  the  pre 
liminaries  of  a  journey  and  the  moment  of  the  last  embraces  and 
adieus.  It  is  an  interval  which  cannot  be  too  much  abridged  for 
the  comfort  of  all  parties ;  for  the  tenderest  leave-takings  do  not 
admit  of  being  protracted  for  more  than  a  few  minutes ;  sighs 
cannot  be  drawn  out  beyond  a  limited  length,  and  the  tenderest 
eyes  will  not  secrete  tears  at  discretion.  The  visits  of  even  com- 
.mon  acquaintances  therefore,  have  their  value  on  these  occasions, 
provided  they  do  not  come  to  pry  into  our  boxes  and  eat  up  our 
plum-cakes.  Mrs.  M^dlicott  nevertheless  was  not  sorry  when  the 
considerate  quakeresses  gave  Reuben  the  last  proofs  of  their  affec 
tion — Hannah  with  kisses  which  he  would  gladly  have  dispensed 
with,  and  a  parting  speech  containing  the  cream  of  her  proverbial 
philosophy — and  went  their  way  in  sympathy  and  silence.  In 
fact  Mrs.  Medlicott  had  for  some  time  been  extremely  fidgetty, 
looking  out  for  the  arrival  of  the  French  maid,  and  not  wishing 
her  to  come  until  the  Hopkinses  had  departedt  It  happened 
exactly  as  she  wished.  The  quakeresses  were  not  gone  five 
minutes  when  Mademoiselle  arrived,  not  on  the  Vicar's  mare  (for 
she  shuddered  at  the  notion  of  riding),  but  in  a  little  phaeton  of 
Mrs.  Winning's.  Louise  (so  she  was  called),  was  very  young,  ex« 


30  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

tremely  pretty,  exceedingly  well-dressed,  thoroughly  Parisian,  and 
the  most  lively,  ardent,  and  obliging  creature  in  the  world.  In 
a  neat  basket,  which  hung  from  her  arm,  she  carried  rher  scissors 
and  her  tongs,  her  oils,  marrows,  and  pomatums,  in  short  all  the 
instruments  and  appliances  of  that  luxurious  and  ornamental  art 
in  which  her  compatriots  of  both  sexes  leave  the  rest  of  the  world 
immeasurably  behind  them.  The  exquisite  arrangement  of  her 
own  hair  was  enough  of  itself  to  prove  her  capacity  for  the  deli 
cate  mission  she  came  to  execute.  In  a  word,  she  seemed  a  very 
sylph  of  the  toilet,  an  actual  Crispissa,  as  she  alighted  from  the 
carriage  and  tripped  into  the  Vicar's  parlour.  What  a  contrast, 
except  in  being  obliging  and  good-natured,  she  presented  to  poor 
Mary  Hopkins ! 

"  Ah,  mon  Dieu ;  ah,  mon  Dieu ;"  Mademoiselle  exclaimed, 
•when  the  state  of  poor  Reuben's  tresses  was  shown  her,  <*  que  les 
pretres  Anglais  sont  des  ignorans !"  as  if  she  had  expected  to  find 
the  ecclesiastics  of  England  particularly  expert  at  hair-cutting. 

Mrs.  Medlicott  talked  French  reasonably  well  for  an  English 
woman  who  had  never  been  abroad ;  but  Reuben  had  not  yet 
reached  that  degree  of  proficiency,  so  that  Mademoiselle,  who 
spoke  English  prettily,  employed  that  tongue  chiefly  during  her 
visit.  She  had  a  nice  operation  to  perform,  but  she  executed  it 
•with  such  dexterity  that,  although  she  could  not  replace  the  lost 
curls,  she  soon  left  little  or  no  trace  of  the  Dean's  clumsy  hands 
behind  her.  Mrs.  Medlicott  stood  by  delighted  and  thankful, 
rewarding  every  clever  touch  with  a  profusion  of  acknowledg 
ments  and  a  mint  of  smiles.  Reuben  himself  had  no  words  to 
express  what  he  felt ;  gratitude  was  the  least  of  it.  Though  but 
a  boy  of  thirteen,  he  was  far  from*insensible  to  the  prodigious 
difference  between  the  small  tapering  rosy  fingers  of  the  pretty 
sparkling  young  French  woman,  and  those  of  his  last  hair-dresser. 
She  touched  him  so  delicately,  so  playfully,  made  such  a  number 
of  artless  flattering  little  speeches,  had  such  bright  eyes,  and  such 
a  musical  voice,  seemed  so  happy  to  please  his  mother,  and  every 
now  and  then  came  out  with  such  pretty  little  exclamations,  and 
adjurations  (which  were  always  in  her  own-  language),  that  the 
boy  was  utterly  confused  and  bewildered,  and  experienced  emo 
tions  which  poor  Mary  Hopkins  had  never  inspired.  In  fact  it 
was  fortunate  he  had  so  many  other  occupations  for  his  thoughts 
at  the  moment,  for  otherwise  he  might  have  actually  fallen  in 
love. 

When  Mademoiselle  heard  that  lie  was  on  the  point  of  start- 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  81 

iiiflf  for  shcool,  she  cried  out  that  he  was  too  young,  too  fragile, 
'i..a  began  to  implore  his  parents  to  change  their  purpose.  She 
i;^en  offered  to  come  over  herself  twice  a  week  from  Sunbury, 
and  teach  him  French.  His  clever  fatl  er  and  mother  could 
teach  him  every  thing  else;  "  voila  mon  projet  d'instruction  pour 
Monsieur  Reuben." 

Mrs.  Medlicott  could  not  but  laugh,  while  in  the  most  cour 
teous  terms  she  thanked  Mademoiselle  Louise  for  her  project  and 
all  her  civilities. 

"  C'est  mon  projet,"  she  repeated  curtseying,  while  she  sheathed 
her  scissors,  and  prepared  to  take  leave,  which  she  was  not  per 
mitted  to  do  without  luncheon.  While  that  was  preparing,  she 
tripped  over  to  a  piano,  which  happened  to  be  open,  and  without 
sitting  down,  played  and  sang  one  little  lively  air  after  another, 
with  such  grace  and  sweetness  that  the  Vicar  himself  was 
greatly  taken  with  her. 

"  I  will  come  encore,  and  pay  you  a  visit,  when  you  come 
back  for  de  holidays,  Monsieur  Reuben,"  she  said,  whenJuncheon 
was  over,  "  and  remember,  if  your  mechant  grandpapa  cut  your 
beautiful  hair  again,  you  always  send  for  Mademoiselle  Louise." 

Before  she  went,  she  gave  him  several  admirable  precepts  for 
the  care  of  his  hair  and  the  improvement  of  his  person  generally, 
and  presented  him  with  a  flask  of  Eau-de-Cologne  by  way  of  an 
impromptu  souvenir;  so  that  Reuben  carried  with  him  to  schodl 
substantial  pledges  of  regard  from  a  great  many  friends  and 
acquaintances. 

At  length  the  parents  were  alone  with  their  son,  and  now 
many  a  maternal  caress  was  repeated,  many  a  paternal  counsel 
reinforced  ;  many  a  tune  Mrs.  Medlicott  was  sure  she  had  left 
something  unsaid  of  the  utmost  consequence,  and,  with  her  hands 
clasped  over  her  eyes,  laboured  in  vain  to  recollect  herself,  for  in 
fact  she  had  said  everything  important  and  unimportant  ten 
times  over.  The  Vicar  had  all  along  confined  his  instructions  to 
but  a  few  points,  but  to  these  he  had  returned  frequently,  and 
even  now  at  the  eleventh  hour,  he  inculcated  once  more  the  few 
short  moral  lessons  into  which  he  tersely  divided  what  he  called 
the  whole  duty  of  a  schoolboy. 

The  final  tendernesses  may  be  left  to  the  reader's  imagina 
tion — who  has  not  either  experienced  or  witnessed  them?  "  Tears 
have  streamed  through  every  age"  for  this  commonest  of  causes, 
but  fortunately  though  such  tears  are  natural,  we  "  wipe  them 
soon,"  as  our  first  parents  did,  after  a  scene  of  moie  bitter  leave- 


82  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

taking.  The  Vicar's  resource  in  every  grief  was  his  garden.  He 
pulled  his  hat  down  over  his  face,  and  went  forth  to  commune 
•with  an  old  raven  he  had  of  the  name  of  Sirach.  Mrs.  Medlicott 
hurried  to  her  room.  Reuben  mounted  the  top  of  the  stage-coach 
•with  his  eyes  still  red  with  weeping.  The  precise  number  of  hours 
his  journey  occupied  is  not  recorded;  all  that  is  certain  is,  that 
on  the  third  day  after  leaving  home  he  was  duly  enrolled  as  a 
scholar  at  Hereford,  having  in  the  course  of  the  journey  met  with 
the  usual  varieties  of  ups  and  downs,  rough  and  smooth,  accord 
ing  as  nature  had  diversified  the  country  he  travelled  through,  or 
the  overseers  of  the  roads  had  performed  or  neglected  their 
duties. 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  33 


BOOK  THE  SECONIX 


*  Mi  perdonate,  gentle  master  mine, 
I  am  in  ail  affected  as  yourself; 
Glad  that  you  thus  continue  your  resolve 
To  suck  the  sweets  of  sweet  philosophy. 
Only  good  master,  while  we  do  admire 
This  virtue,  and  this  moral  discipline, 
Let's  be  no  stoics,  nor  no  Flocks,  I  pray; 
Or  so  devote  to  Aristotle's  checks 
As  Ovid  be  an  outcast  quite  abjured." 

Taming  of  tne  Shrew. 


ARGUMENT. 

A  MAN  on  first  coming  into  the  world  is  very  much  in  the  position  of  a 
minor  whose  affairs  are  altogether  in  the  hands  of  his  guardians  and  his 
lawyers;  he  has  nothing  at  all  to  do  with  what  he  is  most  concerned  in, 
but  is  entirely  at  the  disposal  and  mercy  of  other  people.  We  are  not 
at  liberty  to  choose  our  own  fathers  and  mothers,  or  even  our  pastors  and 
masters ;  and  perhaps,  on  the  whole  it  is  so  much  the  better — it  is  easy 
to  imagine  what  would  happen  were  such  a  privilege  accorded  us.  Mr. 
Htidaon,  for  instance,  would  probably  have  more  sons  thrfh  Priam  of 
Troy ;  the  Duke  of  Wellington  would  have  a  prodigious  Christmas  party 
at  Strathfieldsay ;  and  our  gracious  Queen  would  soon  find  herself  in  the 
Bame  domestic  difficulty  with  the  notorious  little  old  woman,  who,  whilom, 
lived  in  the  shoe.  Cobblers  and  curates  would  be  childless,  and  infanta 
of  the  most  moderate  ambition  would  be  born  with  silver  spoons  in  their 
mouths.  These  points  are  settled  for  us ;  and  riot  only  are  we  provided 
with  ready-made  parents,  but  with  complete  sets  of  relations,  friends, 
and  acquaintances, — not  made  to  any  order  of  ours,  and  with  respect  to 
whom  we  have  not  so  much  as  the  melancholy  choice  of  Hobson. 

There  is  no  help  for  this  state  of  things  any  more  than  there  is  for  our 
not  being  nearer  neighbours  to  the  sun  than  we  are,  or  qualified  to  pro 
menade  our  ceilings  like  the  flies.  It  is  the  common  law  of  the  world 
as  much  as  gravitation  :  we  are  free  to  grumble,  but  not  at  liberty  to  dis 
obey. 

Fortune  is  but  another  name  for  the  infinite  mass  of  circumstances  in 

the  midst  of  which  we  seem  to  be  flung,  like  Bligh's  boat  on  the  Pacific, 

or  the  infant  Moses  in  his  cradle  of  rushes  upon  the  flood  of  the  Nile. 

An  unseen  Proyidence  steers  the  ark ;  but  as  far  as  regards  the  little  crew 

2* 


34  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS) 

himself  he  is  absolutely  at  the  mercy  of  the  current  and  the  crocodile* 
Or  we  may  be  said  to  be  as  molten  metal  poured  into  the  me  uld  of  ten 
thousand  pre-existing  facts  and  relationships,  all  influencing  us,  and  more 
or  less,  determining  what  manner  of  men  we  shall  be.  We  take  their 
form  and  pressure  most  submissively.  There  is  no  option  but  to  take  it. 

Circumstance  is  like  a  she-bear  who  licks  her  cubs  into  shape.  Some 
are  licked  too  roughly,  some  too  delicately;  a  few  receive  the  proper 
moderate  licking  which  forms  the  fine  animal  After  a  certain  period  we 
come  to  be  old  enough  to  take  a  part  in  the  process,  and  lick  or  educate 
ourselves ;  one  energetic  man  in  a  hundred  will  recast  himself  altogether; 
the  majority  continue  to  the  end  of  the  story  much  what  nurseries, 
schools  and  colleges,  parents,  pedagogues  and  priests,  conspired  to  make 
them  in  life's  introductory  chapters. 

The  second  book  of  our  "  poem  unlimited,"  contains  something  about 
learning,  but  a  great  deal  more  about  love.  More  than  one  personage 
will  be  transported  by  that  passion  who  ought  to  be  thinking  of  graver 
things.  W4en  grandfathers  fall  in  love,  grandsons  may  well  "  sigh  like 
a  furnace."  We  shall  presently  (to  employ  again  a  former  illustration) 
be  spectators  of  some  of  the  pantomimic  changes  of  real  life.  With  our 
eyes  fixed  on  a  grammar-school,  we  shall  see  it  turned  into  a  drawing- 
room  ;  and  the  study  of  a  grizzly  old  divine  will  be  transformed  with 
equal  suddenness  into  a  myrtle-bower.  Our  Reuben  is  here  advanced  a 
stage  on  his  journey  nowhither;  lie  extends  his  acquaintance  with  au 
thors,  adds  largely  to  his  stock  of  words,  and  commences  an  intimacy  with 
a  young  lady,  and  to  all  other  books  prefers  the  Book  of  Beauty.  The 
good  old  people  of  Chichester  have  a  very  imperfect  notion  of  the  sayings 
and  doings  of  the  gay  young  people  at  Hereford,  or,  indeed,  of  the  gay  old 
folk  either.  While  one  sort  of  instruction  is  liberally  paid  for,  another  is 
generously  afforded  gratis ;  for  all  that  influences  a  man  is  part  of  his 
education ;  our  friends  and  companions  are  unsalaried  tutors ;  the  houses 
we  frequent  are  so  many  academies  of  easy  discipline ;  the  girl  we  dance 
with  imparts  a  great  many  new  ideas; — in  short,  what  is  the  wide  world 
but  a  Sfiniuaw,  where  the  youth  of  both  sexes  are  promiscuously  educated 
by  mistresses  as  well  as  masters,  and  under  the  fan  as  well  as  the  ferula. 

In  short,  for  a  model-school  (taking  the  world  as  it  is),  commend  us 
to  that  kept  by  Professor  Biron  in  the  park  of  Navarre,  where  the 
scholars  forswore  their  books  when  they  took  a  vow  of  study.  A  man, 
however,  may,  like  Reuben  Medlicott^  be  at  once  amorous  of  books  and 
studious  of  beauty.  It  would  not  be  amiss  if  the  sculptors  of  gema 
would  sometimes  give  Cupid  the  beard  of  Plato,  and  transfer  the  wingi 
and  arrows  of  the  profligate  little  god  to  the  founder  of  the  Academy. 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  35 


,      '  SCIIOCX  AT  HEEEFOED.      EEUBEN   RENEWS   AN  OLD  INTIMACY 
AND   MAKES   SEVEEAL   NEW   ACQUAINTANCES. 

THE-E  was  a  modified  system  of  fagging  established,  or  permitted, 
in  tbe  school  at  Hereford  where  Reuben  Medlicott  was  now  a 
pupil.  The  aim  of  Mr.  Brough,  the  principal,  (a  pompous,  but 
kind  man,)  was  to  preserve  the  system  itself  without  permitting 
the  gross  abuses  usually  attending  it,  and  in  the  main  he  was 
successful  in  effecting  this  object.  Mr.  Brough*  was  a  good 
schoolmaster,  had  some  natural  gift  for  teaching,  and  considera 
ble  sagacity  in  discovering  the  characters  and  measuring  the 
capacities  of  his  boys,  taking  their  altitudes  and  sounding  their 
di-pths,  as  he  used  to  call  it.  He  was  ret  long  in  taking  the 
measure  of  Reuben,  with  tolerable  accuracy,  and  finding  him  a 
clever  boy,  rather  deficient  in  rorce,  and  at  the  same  time  not  of 
a  very  robust  physical  conformation,  he  considerately  assigned  him 
as  vassal  to  his  old  friend  Henry  Winning— an  arrangement  very 
pleasant  for  Reuben,  and  one  that  gratified  his  parents  extremely 
when  they  heard  of  it.  Henry  Winning  was>  not  only  clever, 
but  remarkable  for  steadiness  and  perseverance.  He  was  also  a 
brave,  generous  fellow,  so  that  all  apprehension  of  tyranny  was 
soon  banished  from  the  mind  of  his  new  subject. 

Reuben  was  on  his  knees  unpacking  his  box  of  books  the 
morning  after  his  arrival,  and  Winning  was  standing  over  him, 
wondering  in  silence  what  the  boy  could  want  with  so  many 
more  volumes  than  he  had  ever  possessed  himself.  As  Reuben 
placed  them  one  after  another  on  the  floor,  the  other  stooped 
and  looked  at  their  titles  in  succession.  The  first  was  a  Latin 
Grammar,  which  was  quite  right;  next  came  a  Delectus,  also 
indispensable.  Then  there  appeared  the  Discourses  of  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds. 

"  The  Bodleian  in  a  box,"  said  Winning  :  "  come  we  don't 
learn  that  at  Finchley  ;"  and  he  pitched  the  Discourses  aside. 

"  I  read  it  with  my  mother,"  said  Reuben,  looking  vip  timidly, 
and  colouring. 

"An  Arithmetic? — no  harm." 

"This  is  the  History  of  France." 

"  It  will  be  no  use  here,"  said  Winning,  u  we  only  read  Ro 
man  and  Grecian  History." 


36  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

Reuben  coloured  again, — "  It's  only  to  keep  up  my  know 
ledge,"  he  said  :  "  I  learned  it  at  home." 

"  And  it  appears  you  learned  Geology  at  home,  too,  Medli- 
cott.  Your  mother  must  be  omniscient. — What  is  Geology.? — 
pray  enlighten  me." 

Winning  was  holding  the  book  in  his  hand,  turning  the 
pages  rather  disdainfully,  and  smiling  \vhile  he  asked  the  ques 
tion.  The  smile  and  expression  of  ridicule  confused  poor  Reuben, 
and  he  gaye  a  very  confused  account  of  the  objects  "of  Geology, 
very  like  one  of  his  mother's  precise  definitions. 

.  "It  seems  much  the  same  as  Geography,"  said  the  elder,  "by 
your  accounlfof  it  We"  do  not  neglect  that' at  Finchley  ;  but, 
of  course,  we  have  nothing  to  do  with  anything  but  the  ancient 
world — Attica,  Asia  Minor,  the  Islands  in  the  ^Egean  Sea ;  we 
learn  all  about  them  of  course." 

"  And  nothing  about  America,"  cried  Reuben,  with  subdued 
amazement,  "or. the  British  dominions  in  India?" 

"This  is  not  a  mercantile  school,  Medlicott;  it's  a  classical 
school.  We  have  nothing  to  do  with  America  or  India.  I 
suppose  they  read  about  India  in  the  East  India  College." 

"That's  very  odd,"  said  Reuben.  "I  thought  every  part  of 
the  world  was  equally  desserving  of  study." 

"  And  perhaps  you  may  be  right  in  the  abstract,  Medlicott," 
said  Winning,  looking  intently  at  his  new  acquaintance,  and 
struck  at  once  by  his  modesty  and  precocious  enlargement  of 
views ;  "  but  we  cannot  learn  everything  at  school,  or  anywhere 
else.  Certain  studies  are  appointed  here,  and  it  is  expected  that 
\ve  shall  devote  ourselves  to  them,  not  perhaps  exclusively,  but 
at  least  so  closely,  that  I  can  tell  you,  Medlicott,  there  is  not 
much  time  to  do  a  great  deal  besides,  unless  we  could  manage  to 
do  without  food,  sleep,  and  cricket." 

"  Not  much  time,  I  dare  say,"  said  Reuben,  "  but  you  admit 
there  is  some :  when  I  have  a  leisure  moment  I  suppose  I  may 
read  any  of  my  books  I  please." 

"Under  my  rule  you  may. — Now  that's  magnanimous,  is  it 
not  ?"  said  Winning,  "  for  I  can  tell  you,  Medlicott,  there  are 
some  men  here,  who,  while  I  have  been  quietly  looking  over 
your  motley  library,  would  have  weeded  it  without  the  least 
compunction,  and  consigned  your  French  History,  Botany,  and 
Geology,  Veneris  marito, — do  you  know  who  that  is  ?" 

"  Vulcan,"  replied  Reuben  promptly. 

Winning  now  clapped  him  good-naturedly  on  the  back. 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN. 

called  him  a  promising  fellow,  only  a  little  too  desultory  in  his 
habits  of  reading,  and  ended  by  telling  him  that  he  might  read 
what  he  liked,  on  condition  only  that  he  did  not  neglect  the 
business  of  the  school,  or  defraud  himself  of  the  time  necessary 
for  sleep  and  exercise. 

"  JJut  did  you  come  from  Wnderwood  and  bring  me  no  let 
ters,  messages,  or  anything  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  quite  forgot, — I  have  a  parcel  for  you,"  said  Reuben, 
greatly  fluttered,  and  ransacking  the  bottom  of  the  box. 

"  Stupid  :  and  why  did  you  not  give  it  to  me  the  first  thing 
you  did  2 — from  whom  is  it  ? 

"  From  your  aunt  Winning,  of  course." 

"  And  did  she  send  me  nothing  else  ?" 

"  Nothing  but  a  letter." 

"  Do  you  call  that  nothing  ? — you  are  a  fine  fellow, — as  to 
the  letter,  I  presume  you  have  lost  it — come,  let  me  try — if  it  is 
in  the  box,  I'll  soon  ferret  it  out." 

"Permit  me,"  said  Reuben,  eagerly  but  humbly. 

lie  was  uneasy  lest  Winning  should  discover  the  silk  purse, 
and  still  more  afraid  of  his  finding  the  plumb-cake,  which  he 
felt  quite  ashamed  of,  and  had  only  carried  with  him  out  of  his 
affection  and  respect  for  old  Mrs.  Hopkins.  But  Winning  was 
resolved  to  search  for  himself,  and  he  soon  found  the  letter,  fcxr 
he  tossed  about  Reuben's  shirts  and  other  things,  without 
much  ceremony,  but  he  lighted  at  the  same  time,  not  on  the 
plumb-cake,  but  upon  Mademoiselle's  little  present  of  the  flask 
of  Eau-de-Cologne. 

"  What  have  we.  got  here  ?"  he  cried,  holding  it  up  to  the 
light :  "  eh,  what  is  this  2 — is  it  wine  ?" 

"  Eau-de-Cologne — a  scent,"  said  poor  Reuben,  in  wonderful 
trepidation. 

"  Oh,  a  scent,  is  it  2 — do  you  know  what  we  do  with  scents 
at  Finchley  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Reuben. 

"  Come  to  the  window,  and  Fll  show  you  what  luxurious 
fellows  we  are." 

Winning  walked  over  to  the  window,  followed  by  Reuben, 
very  curious  to  see  the  use  his  friend  was  going  to  apply  the . 
EaU'de-Cologne  to. 

The  room  was  on  the  third  story,  and  there  was  a  paved 
court  beneath  the  window.  Winning  desired  Reuben  to  look  at 
a  particular  stone,  and  then  holding  the  flask  between  his  finger 


38  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

and  thumb,  he  dropped  it  critically  over  the  spot,  wlpre,  of 
course,  it  was  shattered  in  some  thousand  pieces,  sprinkling  the 
court  for  some  yards  round  with  that  agreeable  perfume  to  which 
a  thousand  flowers  are  said  to  contribute. 

"  Are  we  not  luxurious  fellows,  eh  ? — to  water  our  pavement 
with  Eau-de-Cologne !" 

Reuben  looked  extremely  chagrined. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  said  Winning,  patting  him  on  the  back, 
"  the  scent  is  much  better  there  than  in  your  box.  If  the  fellows 
here  were  to  find  out  that  you  scented  yourself,  or  had  scents 
in  your  possession,  you  would  never  hear  the  end  of  it.  Now 
go  and  put  your  things  in  order — I  must  read  my  good  aunt's 
letter." 

The  boys  soon  became  cordial  friends  ;  Henry  Winning 
exercising  a  mild  protective  despotism,  and  Reuben  reasonably 
abstemious  from  supernumerary  pursuits,  for  which  in  truth 
the  routine  of  the  seminnry,  (its  amusements  as  well  as  its 
business,)  left  him  but  little  leisure.  The  example  and  influence 
of  Winning  were  signally  useful  to  young  Medlicott,  who  not 
only  prosecuted  his  classical  studies  with  almost  uninterrupted 
assiduity  for  the  greater  part  of  a  year  under  the  auspices  of  his 
judicious  and  spirited  friend,  but  following  his  footsteps  also  in 
other  things,  began  to  take  pleasure  in  gymnastic  exercises, 
which  materially  improved  his  health  and  added  to  the  attrac 
tion  of  his  person. .  Winning  stimulated  his  ambition  upon 
these  points  by  dwelling  on  the  vast  importance  attached  to  them 
by  the  ancient  Greeks,  who  were  at  the  same  time  the  most 
literary  and  intellectual  people  in  the  world.  This  was  a  view 
of  the  matter  which  seized  hold  of  Reuben's  imagination  power 
fully.  In  conjunction  with  two  boys  named  Primrose  and 
Vigors,  aided  by  a  few  admiring  followers,  he  projected  a  revival 
of  the  Olympic  games  on  the  play-ground  of  Finchley,  and  they 
actually  commenced  putting  the  design  experimentally  into  exe 
cution  by  hiring  two  donkey-carts  belonging  to  a  coster-monger 
in  the  vicinity,  and  starting  them  against  each  other,  by  way  of 
a  chariot-race.  Reuben  dubbed  himself  Phaeton ;  Vigors  was 
Salmoneus.  The  donkeys  were  named  after  the  horses  of  the 
Sun.  This  aspiring  piece  of  puerility  ended  in  the  two  chario 
teers  being  left  sprawling  in  the  dust  of  the  mock  hippodrome ; 
Salmoneus  getting  a  broken  nose,  and  Phaeton  coming  still 
worse  off"  with  a  violent  sprain  of  his  ancle.  Primrose  took  no 
very  active  pait  in  this  Olympic  experiment,  but  he  composed  a 


OB,  THE   COMING  MAN.  39 

Pindaric  ode  in  celebration  ot  it,  the  concluding  stanza  "of  which, 
with  a  serio-comic  allusion  to  the  catastrophe,  obtained  the  ap 
plause  of  Mr.  Brought  himself. 

But  Reuben's  social  experiences  are  perhaps  better  worth 
relating  than  his  experiences  as  a  schoolboy  ;  the  acquaintances 
he  made,  and  the  connexions  he  formed  at  Hereford,  had  full  as 
much  influence  upon  his  future  career  as  the  Latin  and  Greek  he 
learned,  and  the  nonsense  verses  he  composed. 

He  heard  a  great  deal  of  the  Barsacs  from  Winning  and  other 
boys,  but  for  one  reason  or  another,  much  to'  his  disappointment, 
a  considerable  time  elapsed  before  he  received  any  of  that  civil 
ity  and  attention  from  them  which  his  grandfather's  talk  had  led 
him  to  expect.  At  length,  as  if  they  had  suddenly  heard  of 
him  for  the  first  time  (which  may  have  been  actually  the  case) 
he  was  included  in  a  very  general  invitation  of  Mr.  Brough's 
scholars  to  a  juvenile  fete,  or  ball ;  the  event  excited  him  great 
ly  ;  he  recollected  accurately  every  word  of  what  the  Dean  had 
said  about  the  Barsacs,  in  praise  or  abuse  of  them  ;  and  in 
Blanche,  whom  his  grandfathef  had  so  repeatedly  and  energeti 
cally  pronounced  "  an  angel,"  Reuben  almost  expected  to  find 
that  flattering  dtiscription  true  to  the  letter. 

The  elements  of  dancing  he  had  learned,  as  such  things  are 
to  be  learned  in  a  place  like  Chichester ;  but  he  had  brought  no 
dancing  shoes  with  him  from  home,  so  he  consulted  his  chief, 
and  was  strongly  recommended  by  him  to  a  little  shop  kept  by 
a  Frenchman,  who  sold  wonderful  nice  shoes,  and  wonderfully 
cheap. 

"  You  and  I,  Medlicott,"  added  Winning,  "  must  look  sharp 
to  economy ;  neither  of  us  have  very  splendid  allowances ;  in 
deed  I  believe  neither  will  have  much  but  his  industry  and  ta 
lents  to  depend  on  through  life." 

"  So  I  have  heard  my  father  often  say,"  said  Reuben. 

"  Well,"  said  Winning,  "  you  will  find  Monsieur  Adolphe's 
ehoes  excellent  and  dog-cheap  ;  the  shop  is  at  the  corner  of  one 
of  the  closes — I  forget  the  name — but  it  is  on  the  east  side  of 
the  Cathedral,  between  a  pastry-cook's  shop  and  a  cutler's :  re 
member  the  name  is  Adolphe." 

It  was  a  fine  summer  evening,  and  the  shadow  of  the  great 
square  tower  of  the  Cathedral  of  Hereford  was  thrown  like  a 
broad  sombre  mantle  over  the  cluster  of  lanes  and  buildings  to 
which  Reuben  had  been  directed  by  his  friend.  This  shop  was 
easily  ascertained,  for  the  name  of  Adolphe  was  freshly  painted  in 


40  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS J 

sufficiently  large  letters  over  the  door.  Reuben  entered  and 
found  a  palo  handsome  young  man,  with  shining  black  mous 
tache,  sitting  without  his  coat  on  the  little  counter,  and  playing 
the  flageolet.  He  had  heard  the  air  before  :  it  was  certainly  one 
of  those  charming  ones  which  Mrs.  Winning's  obliging  French  maid 
had  sung  at  the  Vicarage  on  the  day  he  left  home.  The  young 
man  jumped  down,  bowed  with  his  national  grace  and  politeness, 
and  in  very  good  English  tendered  his  services  and  manufactures 
to.  his  customer.  The  shoes  seemed  to  justify  Winning's  eulo 
gies,  and  Reuben  was  soon  fitted  with  a  pair  which  promised 
both  in  shape  and  polish  to  make  a  pretty  figure  at  Mrs.  Barsac's 
ball.  While  M.  Adolphe  was  putting  them  up  in  paper,  Reuben 
took  up  the  flageolet  to  examine  it,  for  he  had  never  seen  one 
before. 

"  Did  Monsieur  play  the  flageolet  ?" 

"  No,  but  it  seemed  a  very  sweet  instrument." 

"  It  is  very  easy,"  said  Adolphe :  and  taking  it  up  again, 
played  another  little  air,  which  was  also  one  of  those  which  Ma 
demoiselle  Louise  had  played  anfl  sung  at  Underwood.  The 
musical  shoemaker  saw  that  his  customer  was  very  much  pleased 
with  the  performance. 

"Ah  !  but  I  cannot  sing,  Monsieur;  it  is  the  voice  that  makes 
the  little  romances  of  my  country  charmant;  I  have  a  sister  who 
sings  them  like  a  nightingale." 

Reuben  lost  no  time  in  informing  the  shoemaker  that  he  had 
heard  the  very  same  airs  sung  by  a  countrywoman  of  his  at  a 
house  in  the  country  near  Chichester. 

"  Ah,  oui !  Chichester — Madame  Winning — sans  doute  c' 
(Hoit  mademoiselle  ma  scaur : — elles  chante  ces  petits  romans  la 
a  ravir." 

Our  hero  thought  he  had  made  some  wonderful  discovery  in 
finding  that  Mrs.  Winning's  French  maid  was  the  shoemaker's 
sister,  and  he  communicated  the  fact  to  Winning  with  the  utmost 
gravity. 

"  Is  it  not  very  singular  ?"  said  Reuben. 

"  Why,"  said  Winning,  smiling  at  his  simplicity,  "  if  a  French 
man  and  his  sister  live  in  England  at  all,  and  do  not  live  in  the 
same  place,  I  see  nothing  prodigious  in  one  living  at  Hereford 
and  the  other  at  Underwood."  . 

"  Why  no,"  said  Reuben,  "  I  see  there  is-  not,  on  reflection." 

But  the  occasion  for  wearing  the  shoes  soon  put  the  maker  of 
them,  and  all  connected  with  him,  out  of  Reuben's  head  for  the 
time  being. 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN.  41 


MRS.   BARSAO'S  BALL. 

THE  long-expected  evening  came  at  last,  and  Reuben  found  him 
self  transported  into  the  midst  of  a  tumultuous  assembly  of  well- 
dressed  people,  in  the  gay  house  of  which  he  had  so  long  desired 
to  penetrate  the  interior.  Except  his  school-fellows,  he  was  ao- 
quainted  with  nobody.  There  was  nobody  to  tell  him  the  name 
of  any  one.  Which  of  the  company  were  the  Barsacs,  or  whether 
they  were  present  or  not,  he  was  in  their  house  for  an  hour,  with 
out  knowing  more  than  the  man  in  the  moon,  as  the  saying  is. 
He  knew  the  ball  had  commenced  by  hearing  the  music,  feeling 
the  floors  vibrate,  and  finding  himself  swayed  to  and  fro  occa 
sionally  by  the  movements  of  the  dancers,  though  he  could 
scarcely  see  them.  He  wondered  what  had  become  of  Winning, 
and  paid  close  attention  to  the  ladies  in  white  dresses,  among 
whom  alone  he  expected  to  find  Miss  Blanche  Barsac,  so  strongly 
had  his  grandfather's  description  of  her  affected  his  imagination. 

Suddenly  his  shoulder  was  tapped  behind.  He  turned  about 
and  found  Winning  at  his  elbow. 

"  Why  are  you  not  dancing?"  said  1m  friend.  Reuben  re 
plied,  with  a  faltering  voice,  that  he  would  rather  not  dance ;  he 
knew  little  more  than  the  steps — had  "scarcely  a  notion  of  a 
figure. 

"  Not  dance  ? — then  why  did  you  buy  the  dancing-shoes  ?" 

"  Besides,  I  have  no  partner.  I  know  nobody — at  least,  no 
lady." 

-  "Oh,  I'll  soon  settle  that; — come,  will  you  dance  with  brown 
sherry,  pale  sherry,  or  dry  .sherry  f ' 

"  You  are  joking,"  said  Reuben,  his  gravity  overcome  by  his 
friend's  question. 

"  No, — don't  you  know  thai  those  are  our  names  for  the  three 
Miss  Barsacs  ?  There  is  Brown  Sherry,  the  prettiest,  dancing 
with  the  officer;  that  cross-looking  girl,  talking  to  Mr.  Brough 
yonder,  is  Dry  Sherry ;  and,  stay,  there's  Pale  Sherry  actually 
looking  at  us,  asking  us  with  her  eyes.  You  shall  honour  hej 
with  your  hand." 

"  What  is  her  name  ?"  asked  Reuben,  in  great  excitement. 

"  Blanche,"  replied  Winning,  little  guessing  Reuben's  interest 
in  the  answer. 


42  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

Pale  Sherry  was  pale ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  very  pretty ; 
she  was  what  people  commonly  call  an  interesting  girl.  She  had 
soft  grey  eyes,  which  hid  a  particularly  earnest  *md  devoted  ex 
pression  in  them,  when  she  was  talking  to  you,  which  was  very 
flattering  and  very  fascinating.  Besides,  she  had  a  nice  figure, 
and  a  demure  and  composed  manner,  which  corresponded  admi 
rably  with  her  pale  complexion  and  soft  eyes.  None  of  tho 
Barsac  girls  were  mere  girls :  the  eldest  was  probably  twenty- 
seven,  and  there  was  not  more  than  three  or  four  years'  difference 
in  standing  between  the  eldest  and  the  youngest.  Of  course  it 
was  condescending  of  the  angelic  Blanche  to  dance  with  a  boy 
of  thirteen  ;  but  he  was  tall  for  his  age,  and  she  acted  her  part 
with  perfect  good-humour  and  good-nature,  keeping  him  right 
in  the  figure  as  far  as  she  could,  and  trying  to  put  him  as  much 
at  his  ease  as  possible.  Both  were  difficult  things  to  do;  not 
only  was  Reuben's  nervous  ambition  to  excel  of  itself  sufficient  to 
lead  him  astray,  but  every  time  his  partner's  mild,  earnest  eyes 
encountered  his,  he  experienced  the  strangest  sensations,  and  felt 
himself  blushing,  he  knew  not  why  or  wherefore ;  in.  fact,  he  was 
in  love  with  Blanche  before  the  second  part  of  the  dance  was 
over. 

"Medlicott  dancing! — I  should  as  soon  have  thought  to  see 
Xenophon  in  a  quadrille,"  said  De  Tabley — one  of  the  senior 
boys, — who,  being  a  noodle  himself,  took  a  special  pleasure  in 
tormenting  Reuben  for  being  too  wise. 

"  An  ignoramus  made  that  remark,"  said  Winning  in  his  ear; 
"you  ought  to  know  that  Xenophon  was  one  of  the  gayest  cava 
liers  of  his  time,  as  well  as  one  of  the  ablest  men." 

De  Tabley  was  extinguished,  and  skulked  off  to  the  refresh 
ment-room  to  console  himself  with  the  sandwiches  and  jellies,  for 
which  his  capacity  was  first-rate. 

Winning  had  given  Reuben  one  direction  at  starting,  which* 
was  just  to  observe  his  partner,  and  do  whatever  she  did.  This 
rule  answered  pretty  well  to  a  c^i'tain  extent ;  but  when  it  was 
pushed  too  far,  it  was  not  so  successful ;  for  whenever  Blanche 
danced,  Reuben,  being  quite  bewildered,  insisted  upon  dancing 
also,  and,  when  she  checked  him,  he  was  utterly  at  a  loss  what 
to  do,  and,  consequently  stood  stock-still  when  it  came  to  "his 
turn  to  move.  This,  however,  was  of  no  great  consequence ;  but 
there  came  a .period  in  the  course  of  the  figure  when  it  was  Miss 
Barsac's  cue  To  advance  to  him,  which  she  did  most  graciously 
and  encouragingly,  holding  her  frock  with'  the  tips  of  her  fingers 


OR,  TFE   COMING   MAN.  43 

on  each  side  in  the  usual  manner  of  ladies  dancing  alone.  It 
was  unnecessary  for  Reuben  to  imitate  this  part  of  the  action, 
but  he  was  too  confused  to  make  very  nice  distinctions,  and,  ac 
cordingly,  when  his  turn  came,  he  seized  his  trousers  at  the  hips 
with  both  hands,  and  holding  them  out  as  far  as  he  could  make 
•them  o-o,  advanced  in  this  unusual  manner  to  meet  the  lady,  who 
found  it  very  hard,  of  course,  to  refrain  from  smiling',  particu 
larly  as  he  kept  his  eyes  intently  fixed  upon  her  all  the  time. 
Others,  however,  were  not  so  well  able  or  so  well  disposed  to  re 
frain  as  Blanche  was ;  so  that  there  was  a  good  deal  of  laughing 
at  poor  Reuben's  expense,  though  some  of  the  company  thought 
he  had  done  it  out  of  pleasantry,  and  gave  him  credit  for  being 
a  grave-faced,  waggish  little  fellow. 

Happy  fellow  he  was  when  that  quadrille  was  over,  and  Miss 
Barsac  suffered  him  to  lead  her  to  a  seat.  Then  Reuben,  being 
more  at  his  ease,  thought  it  his  duty  to  ask  her  a  series  of  ques 
tions,  though  he  could  scarcely  muster  up  the  courage  to  do  it, 
or  indeed  to  address  her  at  all.  Did  she  play  the  piano?  She 
did.  Did  she  sing?  Pale  Sherry  did  not  sing.  Did  she  draw? 
Yes.  Landscape  ?  No.  Flowers  I  No,  no — how  could  he  sus 
pect  her  of  drawing  flowers  ?  and  she  looked  at  him  in  that  pecu 
liar  way  of  hers,  which  incontinently  brought  the  foolish  rose  to 
his  cheeks,  as  he  apol  igised  for  such  an  unlucky  guess,  and,  trying 
again,  hit  upon  portrait-painting,  which  could  not  well  have  been 
anything  but  right.  It  was  then  the  lady's  turn  to  ask  que  -lions, 
and  she  was  still  more  catechetical ;  for  she  commenced  by  ask 
ing  his  name,  and  being  a  better  adept  at  the  art  of  conversation 
by  queries  than  he  was,  she  soon  distilled  from  him  a  multitude 
of  particulars  and  details  about  his  parents  and  his  early  educa 
tion,  ni  which  she  certainly  seemed  to  take  a  great  ii  terest, 
whether  she  felt  it  or  not.  He  was  drawing  her  a  picture  of  the 
Parsonage,  and  beginning  to  recover  his  fluency  and  feel  toler 
ably  comfortable,  when  Winning  came  up  and  asked  Pale  Sherry 
to  dance.  She  left  Reuben  with  a  smile,  and  he  saw  no  more  of 
her  the  whole  evening. 

It  was  not  a  house  for  books,  though  in  other  respects  amply 
and  even  luxuriantly  furnished,  or  he  would  have  known  how  to 
dispose  of  himself  in  a  corner,  while  everybody  else  was  thinking 
of  nothing  less  than  reading.  After  sitting  for  a  while  just  where 
Blanche  Barsac  left  him,  with  his  hands  before  him,  just  in  the 
way  his  old  Quaker  mistress  considered  the  perfection  of  good 
manners,  he  took  coil  rage  to  creep  into  a  room  adjoining  the  ball- 


44  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

room,  where  there  was  a  whist-party  made  up;  Mr.  B rough,  his 
master,  and  Mrs.  Barsac,  against  Mr.  Barsac  and  an  old  lady 
whom  he  did  not  know. 

That  whist-party  would  have  made  a  good  picture.  Mr. 
Brough  was  a  tall  man,  with  regular  features,  florid  complexion, 
powdered  hair,  a  solemn  manner,  and,  though  not  a  clergyman, 
dressed  like  one — in  the  glossiest  black  suit  and  the  whitest 
cambric.  Opposite  to  him  was  a  very  old  lady  in  black  velvet, 
with  a  profusion  of  old  lace  hanging  about  her,  and  as  intent 
upon  the  points  of  the  game  as  if  her  eternal  welfare  depended 
upon  the  two  by  honours,  which  she  had  just  marked  with  old 
guineas  of  the  reign  of  George  the  First.  Barsac,  who  was  now 
shuffling  the  cards  in  canary -col  .1  red  gloves,  looked  social  and  good 
natured,  but  unmistakeably  purse-proud  ;•  he  carried  his  head  conse 
quentially,  with  his  chin  cocked  up  almost  in  advancetof  his  nose ; 
displayed  a  superb  bouquet  in  his  button-hole,  and  wore  a  jet-black 
wig,  which  was  intended  to  pass  for  his  own  hair,  but  the  fraud 
was  too  palpable  to  impose  upon  anybody.  His  wife  was  a  mel 
low,  motherly,  brisk  and  shrewd  woman,  with  sparkling  eyes, 
showy  and  bustling  manners,  and  worldly  all  over;  you  saw  at 
a  glance  that  a  ball  with  her  was  a  business;  even  a  juvenile 
fete  had  its  ulterior  practical  objects ;  indeed,  Mrs.  Barsac  was 
fertile  in  every  sense — she  had  l»ts  of  sons  and  daughters,  of  all 
sizes  and  ages,  and  as  many  pr<  jeets  for  every  one  of  them  as 
any  mother  in  Mrs.  Gore's  novels.  -  She  was  superbly  dressed, 
like  her  husband  ;  a  diamond  star  blazed  on  her  forehead,  and 
the  rustling  of  her  wide-spread  amber  brocade  was  like  a  breeze 
in  a  shrubbery. 

Reuben  had  not  been  standing  there  very  long,  watching  the 
fortunes  of  the  game,  of  which  he  was  not  entirely  ignorant, 
when  Mrs.  Barsac  noticed  him,  asked  him  had  he  been  in  the 
refreshment  room,  and  recommended  him  to  go  there.  He  went 
very  obediently,  although  he  did  not  want  refreshment;  took 
something  because  he  thought  he  was  under  some  sort  of  obli 
gation  to  do  so,  and  then  returned  to  the  ball-room,  where  a  new 
dance  had  in  the  meantime  formed,  which  included  everybody 
he  knewv  and  left  him  again  to  his  own  meditations.  He  soon 
felt  himself  growing  sleepy,  and  was  rubbing  his  eyes  to  keep 
himself  awake,  when  the  eldest  Miss  Barsac — a  fall  girl,  with  a 
supercilious  and  austere  countenance,  justifying  the  nickname  the 
boys  had  given  her, — observed  him  in  passing  with,  another  lady, 
and  said,  in  a  tone  perfectly  audible — 


OB,  THE   COMING  MAN.  46 

"  That  child  ought  to  have  been  in  bed  an  hour  ago." 

This  remark  piqued  Reuben  exceedingly,  and  had  the  same 
effect  as  if  Dry  Sherry  had  thrown  «,  glass  of  cold  water  in  his 
face.  Determined  to  show  that  he  was  not  in  the  state 'Miss 
Barsac  supposed,  he  went  immediately  and  took  his  place  behind 
Henry  Winning,  who  was  now  dancing  with  the  bustling  and 
rustling  Mrs.  Barsac  herself,  though  she  protested  her  dancing 
days  were  over. 

She  probably  noticed  him  again,  for  Reuben  could  perceive 
that  she  put  a  question  to  his  friend,  in  reply  to  which  he  was 
near  enough  to  hear  Winning  say — 

"  He  is  a  very  clever  fellow,  and  has  a  wonderful  fund  of 
knowledge  for  his  age." 

"  He  knows  Latin,  Greek,  Spanish,  French,  Arabic,  and  Per 
sian  ;  Botany,  Zoology,  Mathematics,  Conchology,  Phrenology, 
and  Syntax,"  said  De  Tabley,  volubly,  just  returned  from  stufliug 
himself  with  the  jellies. 

Mrs.  Barsac  was  amused  and  said — "  You  boys  are  so  funny 
and  so  ill-natured." 

Winning  looked  thunderbolts  at  De  Tabley  ;  but  out  of  con 
sideration  for  the  lady  of  the  house,  repressed  the  indignant 
repartee  that  was  on  his  lips. 

Reuben  could  not  but  suspect  that  it  was  for  him  all  these 
compliments  were  intended,  and  not  liking  his  present  position 
he  went  off  again  to  the  refreshment-room,  merely  because  he 
might  as  well  go  tnere  as  anywhere  else.  Before  he  had  been 
there  two  minutes,  Mr.  Brough,  his  master,  perceived  him,  and 
concluding  that  Reuben  had  been  refreshing  himself  ever  since 
Mrs.  Barsac  sent  him  from  the  card-table,  he  beckoned  him  to 
follow  him  into  a  quiet  corner,  where  he  read  him  a  severe  and 
solemn  lecture  upon  intemperance,  which  Reuben  endeavoured  in 
vain  to  save  him  the  trouble  of  delivering,  by  trying  to  explain 
that  he  had  taken  nothing  the  whole  evening  but  some  tea  and 
a  Naples  biscuit. 

Mr.  Brough  never  liked  to  be  interrupted  in  the  course  of  his 
admonitions,  which  were  very  grave  and  pompous.  Every  time 
that  Reuben  attempted  to  speak,  he  was  silenced  by'  the  lifted 
linger  and  austere  regard  for  the  glossy  pedagogue,  who,  when 
his  harangue  was  over,  immediately  rose  and  went  back  to  the 
whist-table.  As  Mr.  Brough  left  the  room,  he  met  De  Tabley 
returning  to  it.  Mr.  Brough  patted  him  playfully  on  the  head, 
— presumed  he  had  been  dancing  all  the  evening.  — and  told  him 


46  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J. 

to  go  and  hnve  some  refreshment, — an  order  which  the  young 
gourmand  received  with  profound  respect,  and  proceeded  to  obey 
implicitly ;  but  as  soon  as  tlfe  schoolmaster  was  out  of  hearing 
he  burst  out  laughing,  and  told  Reuben  that  this  was  his  fourth 
visit  to  the  jellies  and  sandwiches. 

But  on  this  occasion  there  was  a  formal  supper  at  an  early 
hour,  to  suit  the  habits  of  the  juniors,  who  were  the  principal 
part  of  the  company.  Reuben  had  never  "before  seen  anything 
so  gorgeous  as  Mrs.  Barsac's  supper-table.  The  plate — the  lights 
— the  variety  of  dishes,  substantial  and  unsubstantial — the  piles 
of  fruit — the  multiplicity  of  wines  of  all  colours  and  vintages — 
the  miracles  of  pastry — the  wonders  of  confectionary — towers, 
castles,  pyramids,  and  pagodas — a  profusion  and  splendour  which 
he  had  never  seen  in  the  quiet  parish  of  Underwood — astonished, 
dazzled,  and  confused  him.  At  the  head  of  the  table  presided 
Mr.  Barsac,  standing  up  with  a  dish  of  roast  ducks  before  him, 
which  he  carved  with  ostentatious  dexterity,  still  wearing  his 
canary  gloves,  and  pausing  at  intervals  to  take  wine  with  this 
person  or  that,  making  little  jocular  prepared  speeches,  suggesting 
madeira  to  one,  hock  to  another,  champagne  to  a  third,  and  some 
times  recommending  one  of  his  sherries,  which  invariably  set  Mr. 
Brough's  pupils  tittering,  winking,  and  nudging  each  other,  for 
they  generally  herded  together  upon  these  festive  occasions, 
getting  as  far  beyond  the  ken  of  the  master  as  they  could. 

Reuben,  however,  still  attached  himself  to  the  side  of  Winning, 
who  had  no  object  in  avoiding  Mr.  Brough's  neighbourhood,  and 
the  consequence  was,  that  when  Reuben  was  seated  he  found 
himself  close  to  his  master,  who  ruled  the  roast  at  the  foot  of  the 
table,  as  pompously/ but  not  so  rhetorically,  as  Mr.  Barsac  at  the 
other  end.  lie  was  not  the  boy  to  eat  a  surreptitious  supper,  or 
he  might  have  managed  it  easily  ;  so  that,  to  avoid  again  attract 
ing  Mr.  Brough's  unjust  suspicions,  he  affected  to  have  no  appetite, 
and  went  to  bed  supperless  that  festive  night,  although,  in  truthj 
the  poor  fellow  was  very  hungry.  Nor  did  he  sleep  the  better 
for  haying  nothing  but  his  wrongs  to  digest,  but  occupied  himself 
alternately  with  concocting  twenty  little  speeches  which  he  felt 
he  ought  to  hnve  made  to  Miss  Barsac,  and  framing  a  spirited 
retort  to  demolish  De  Tabley  the  next  time  he  should  renew  his 
impertinences.  These  were  probably  his  earliest  efforts  in  elo 
quence,  and  it  is  not  unlikely  that  his  model-orator  that  night  wa? 
Mr.  Barsac  with  his  canary  gloves. 


OB,  THE   COMING   MAN.  47 


CHAPTER  IIL 

MORE   FESTIVITY   AT  MRS.   BARSAo's. 

a  REUBEN,"  said  Winning,  the  next  morning,  "  a  ball  is  thrown 
away  on  you  ;  you  can't  expect  Mrs.  Barsac  ever  to  invite  you 
again." 

"  Why  so  ?"•  said  Reuben. 

"  Why,  you  neither  danced  nor  eat  supper ;  Mrs.  Barsac 
keeps  a-list  of  the  men  who  don't  dance,  and  Mr.  Barsac  takes  a 
note  of  those  who  despise  his  suppers." 

"  I  shall  dance  more,"  said  Reuben,  "  when  I  am  familiar 
with  the  figures ;  I  think  I  shall  soon  understand  the  principle  at 
all  events." 

Winning  laughed  at  the  principle  of  a  quadrille ;  and  Reuben 
slid  he  thought  there  was  a  principle  in  everything,  to  which 
Winning  assented,  though  he  laughed  again. 

"  But  you  surely  had  no  difficulty  in  catching  the  principle 
of  supper.  What  have  you  to  say  for  yourself  on  that  head  ?" 

Reuben  then  related  what  took  place  the  preceding  evening 
between  himself  and  Mr.  Brough ;  how  he  had  been  lectured 
and  reprimanded  for  gourmandise,  when  in  fact  he  had  taken 
next  to  nothing. 

Winning  was  distressed  at  this  story,  and  undertook  to  set 
his  friend  right  in  Mr.  Brough's  opinion.  This  he  took  an 
opportunity  of  doing  that  very  'day,  and  Mr.  Brough  sent  for 
Reuben  and  very  handsomely  expressed  his  regret  at  having 
hastily  misjudged  him,  adding  some  profound  common-place  re 
marks  on  the  hazards  of  circumstantial  evidence,  by  which  the 
safety  of  innocence  had  often  been  compromised,  even  under  the 
direction  of  the  ablest  men  that  ever  adorned  the  bench.  Reu 
ben  went  his  way  with  a  high  opinion  of  his  preceptor's  magna 
nimity  and  enlightenment.  Mrs.  Barsac's  ball  gave  him  a  great 
many  new  ideas ;  he  had  only  heard  of  balls  before  as  young 
Norval  had  heard  of  battles;  in  a  long  letter  to  his  mother  he 
gave  her  as  minute  an  account  of  the/ete  as  if  it  had  been  the 
first  thing  of  the  kind  ever  known  in  England;  ai  d  amused  her 
exceedingly  by  his  innocent  remarks  on  the  ladies'  dresses,  his 
mistakes  in  dancing,  and  the  absurd  names  of  the  three  Miss  Bar- 
sacs.  Of  Blanche  he  said  wonderfully  little,  only  observing  that 
in  his  opinion  she  seemed  to  justify  all  that  his  grandfather  had 


48  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

said  about  her.  There  was  good  reason  to  think  that  he  had 
originally  intended  to  say  much  more^for  there  was  an  extensive 
erasure  in  this  jwtrt  of  his  letter,  as  if  he  had  not  found  words 
suitable  to  express  certain  ideas  in  his  mind.  In  fact,  the  entire 
letter  was  written  altogether  to  gratify  his  mother,  because  she 
had  expressly  requested  him  to  give  her  a  full  account  of  his 
arst  introduction  to  the  Barsacs ;  no  doubt  he  had  tried  to  con 
vey  the  feelings  uppermost  in  his  mind  in  connection  with  the 
ball,  and  had  either  failed  to  do  so,  or  clothed  them  in  language 
only  too  forcible. 

The  Barsacs  had  another  gay  party  shortly  after,  but  it  was 
not  especially  juvenile,  and  the  only  boys  formally  invited  of 
Mr.  Brough's  school  were  Winning,  Vigors,  and  De  Tabley. 
Reuben  was  seriously  afraid  his  name  had  been  inserted  in  those 
awful  lists  of  which  Winning  had  told  him  :  he  received  an  invita 
tion,  however,  at  the  eleventh  hour,  for  which  he  was  accident 
ally  indebted  to  the  interest  he  took  in  Gothic  architecture,  and 
a  smattering  he  had  of  drawing.  On  the  evening  of  the  party, 
to  console  himself  for  Mrs.  Barsac's  omision  to  include  him  in 
her  select  list,  he  determined  to  execute  a  design  he  had  formed 
some  time  before,  to  make  a  sketch  of  the  cathedral  for  his 
mother;  so  taking  his  portfolio  and  pencil,  he  posted  off  to  that 
venerable  pile,  and  having  chosen  what  he  considered  the  best 
point  of  view,  he  was  so  busily  engaged  at  his  work  that  he  took 
very  little  notice  of  the  circle  of  urchkis,  which  the  oddity  of  his 
employment  in  so  public  a  place  gathered  about  him  in  a  few  mo 
ments.  However,  before  his  sketch  was  quite  finished,  another  class 
of  spectators  were  amongst  the  observers  of  his  artistic  enthusiasm, 
for  hearing  some  female  voices  close  by  him,  and  one  or  two 
pleasant  tittering  laughs,  he  looked  up  and  found  the  whole 
family  of  the  Barsacs  (at  least  the  female  portion  of  them)  stand 
ing  within  a  yard  of  his  elbow.  Fortunately  his  sketch  was 
nearly  complete,  for  to  have  put  another  touch  to  it  that  evening 
would  have  been  utterly  impossible.  He  put  up  his  pencils  in  a 
hurry,  not  without  some  blushing,  and  answered  confusedly  the 
numerous  little  questions  with  which  the  ladies  overwhelmed  him, 
without  indeed  giving  him  much  time  to  reply,  had  he  been  ever 
so  self-possessed.  Mrs.  Barsac  was  gracious  and  encouraging; 
her  daughter,  the  brunette,  was  good-natured  too,  but  it  was  her 
laugh  which  had  originally  attracted  Reuben's  attention,  and 
she  had  scarcely  done  laughing  yet.  The  eldest  girl  said  very 
litfele,  but  what  she  did  say  was  supercilious  and  unpleasant 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  49 

Blanche  alone  of  the  sisters  regarded  the  young  artist  and  his 
work  with  interest ;  she  commended  his  drawing  highly,  said  it 
was  executed  with  spirit  and  cleverness ;  and  induced  her  mother 
and  her  good-humoured  sister  to  concur  in  the  same  opinion. 
Reuben  soon  revived  in  the  warmth  of  this  agreeable  approba 
tion,  and  he  was  completely  set  up  again  when  Mrs.  Barsac  in 
vited  him  to  join  her  party,  politely  apologizing  for  not  having 
asked  him  before.-  He  walked  palpitating  by  the  side  of  Blanche 
discovering  new  fascinations  in  her  every  moment,  and  did 
not  recollect  in  the  first  happy  flutter  of  his  spirits  that  she  was 
an  artist  as  well  as  himself;  but  this  community  of  tastes  soon 
became  a  fertile  topic  of  conversation,  and  Reuben  was  soon  so 
deep  in  the  subject  of  the  fine  arts  as  to  ask  if  Miss  Barsac  ha^J. 
read  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  Discourses.  She  smiled  very  sweetly, 
as  she  frankly  owned  she  had  never  even  heard  of  the  work,  upon 
which  Reuben  with  empressement,  offered  to  lend  them  to  her, — 
an  offer  she  graciously  accepted  just  as  they  reached  the  house. 

Reuben  went  back  to  Finchley  to  put  himself  in  ball  costume, 
and  there  he  found  a  letter  from  home  awaiting  him,  which,  im 
patient  as  he  was  to  be  at  Blanche's  side  again,  he  read  consci 
entiously  to  the  last  syllable.  The  reading  of  his  letters,  and  the 
making  of  his  toilette,  occupied  a  considerable  time,  and  when 
both  operations  were  performed,  he  had  to  hunt  for  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds's  Discourses,  which  detained  him  a  good  deal  longer, 
for  he  was  not  in  the  habit  of  keeping  his  things  very  methodi 
cally.  The  result  was  that  he  found  the  festivities  already  com 
menced  when  he  returned  to  Mrs.  Barsac's :  one  dance  had 
already  taken  place  ;  another  had  just  been  arranged,  and  when 
Reuben  entered  he  made  a  great  sensation,  greater  indeed  than 
he  was  ambitious  of  making,  for  with  his  books  in  his  hands  he 
had  to  traverse  the  whole  circle  (hemmed  in  by  the  dancers 
awaiting  the  signal  to  move),  in  order  to  find  the  fair  lady  for 
whom  so  unusual  a  ball-room  offering  was  intended. 

He  probably  did  not  observe  the  smiles  of  which  he  was  the 
occasion,  but  he  could  hardly  have  failed  to  hear  some  of  the 
little  jocular  remarks  which  accompanied  them;  however,  his 
enthusiasm,  and  singleness  of  purpose,  carried  him  through  all, 
and  he  presented  Blanche  with  the  volumes,  under  a  perfect  con 
viction  that  no  bouquet  of  the  most  rare  and  exquisite  flowers 
would  have  been  half  so  acceptable  to  her.  While  she  was  de 
positing  the  books  in  a  corner,  sedulously  attended  by  Reuben, 
MIT-.  Barsac  happening  to  pass  at  the  moment  inquired  what 
3 


60  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

books  they  were,  and  when  Reiiben  told  her  they  contained  Rey- 
nolds's  Discourses,  she  probably  mistook  Reynolds  for  a  divine , 
for  "  I  doubt  very  much,"  she  observed,  with  a  gracious  smile  on 
Reuben,  "if  they  are  to  be  compared  with  the  discourses  of  your 
grandpapa." 

Reuben  would  have  enjoyed  this  second  party  much  more 
than  he  did,  if  there  had  not  been  a  whisper  in  the  room  that  the 
Dean  was  expected  in  the  course  of  the  evening.  None  of  his 
school-fellows  were  fond  of  meeting  his  grandfather  at  Mrs.  Bar- 
sac's.  The  Dean  in  a  drawing-room  was  always  like  an  eagle  in 
a  dove-cot ;  he  looked  at  a  ball  like  a  clerical  magistrate  about 
to  disperse  a  mob;  but  it  was  not  to  the  dancing  he  objected 
particularly,  for  he  was  rather  in  favour  of  all  such  innocent  pas 
times;  the  music  was  what  he  hated,  because  it  prevented  him 
from  holding  forth,  or  drowned  his  voice  when  he  raised  it.  If 
there  could  have  been  dancing  without  music,  he  was  willing  to 
let  the  young  people  dance  till  morning,  provided  he  was  satis 
fied  of  the  strength  of  the  rafters,  and  not  jostled  by  the  waltzers, 
which  made  him  furious.  The  Dean  was  rough  with  most  peo 
ple,  sometimes  even  with  women,  but  he  was  invariably  rough 
with  school-boys ;  he  knocked  them  about  without  ceremony, 
examined  and  catechised  them  in  all  companies,  and  in  the  mid 
dle  of  dinner,  or  at  a  tea-table,  would  question  them  in  the  Ho- 
ratian  metres.  When  he  saw  any  of  the  scholars  of  Finchley  at 
Mrs.  Barsac's,  talking  to  one  of  her  daughters,  for  instance,  and 
particularly  ambitious  to  shine  and  to  play  the  man,  he  was  sure 
to  flout  him ;  and  above  all  if  the  poor  boy  happened  to  wear 
white  gloves  and  was  asking  a  lady  to  dance.  Then  the  Dean 
would  make  the  most  unpleasant  observations,  sometimes  turn 
upon  Mrs.  Barsac,  abuse  her  roundly,  and  declare  that  she  was 
destroying  the  discipline  of  Mr.  Brough's  school,  and  ruining  the 
rising  generation. 

But  the  gaieties  of  the  present  occasion  were  not  interrupted 
by  bis  grandfather,  further  than  the  damp  which  the  continual 
apprehension  of  his  appearance  threw  over  some  of  the  company. 
Mrs.  Barsac  herself  seemed  nervous.  Blanche  declined  to  dance, 
but  she  permitted  and  even  encouraged  Reuben  to  sit  beside  her 
and  talk  about  books,  which  she  seemed  to  like  to  talk  about ; 
or  rather  to  hear  him  expatiating  on,  for  in  truth  her  share  in  the 
conversation  was  little  more  than  that  of  an  attentive  and  flatter 
ing  listener.  Sometimes,  however,  she  appeared  to  have  little 
short  fits  of  abstraction,,  and  now  and  then  glanced  like  her 


OR,  THE   COMING   it  AN.  51 

mother  anxiously  at  the  door.  Reuben  easily  guessed  who  the 
ogre  was,  whose  expected  arrival  alarmed  the  fair  Blanche  as  it 
did  other  people.  He  felt  extremely  vexed  at  his  grandfather; 
yet  sometimes  he  was  almost  half  inclined  to  allay  Blanche's  ap 
prehensions,  by  apprising  her  of  the  high  opinion  the  rough  old 
gentleman  had  of  her.  Wanting  the  courage  to  do  this,  he 
asked  her  in  what  part  of  the  house  the  library  was ;  he  had  not 
yet  seen  it. 

Blanche  smiled  at  the  notion  of  a  library,  and  said,  "  her 
papa  had  very  few  books  indeed." 

Reuben  did  not  conceal  his  surprise  at  this  confession  as  well 
as  it  would  have  been  polite  to  do. 

"  I  feared  it  would  shock  you,"  continued  his  fair  friend,  "but 
we  are  not  at  all  intellectual  or  reading  people  in  this  house : — 
of  course  you  have  a  nice  library  at  home." 

"  Well,  indeed,"  said  Reuben,  "I  cannot  exactly  say  we  have 
any  particular  library,  but  we  have  a  great  many  books  in  one 
place  or  another ;  there  are  some  in  the  parlour,  some  in  the 
hall,  and  a  good  many  in  my  mother's  room.  But  my  grand 
father  has  a  superb  library  at  Westbury  ;"  and  then  he  asked 
Blanche  had  she  ever  been  there. 

She  had  been  at  Westbury,  and  expressed  her  sin-prise  that 
Reuben  had  not. 

"  My  grandfather  has  been  making  extensive  alterations,"  he 
said. 

"  So  I  am  told,"  said  Blanche  absently. 

Reuben  desired  to  know  the  nature  of  the  improvements  the 
Dfcin  was  making. 

"T  understand  very  little  about  building,"  said  Blanche, 
rising,  "  but  here  comes  papa  who  will  tell  you  all  about  it ;"  and 
so  saying  she  rather  abruptly  handed  Reuben  over  to  Mr.  Barsac, 
who,  with  great  pomposity,  led  him  into  a  room  called  the  music- 
room,  where  there  were  lying  on  a  table  a  set  of  maps  and  plans, 
not  only  of  the  Dean's  improvements  at  Westbury,  but  also  of 
the  more  extensive  projects  in  which  he  was  engaged  jointly 
with  the  rich  wine-merchant.  Reuben  surveyed  these  charts 
with  the  utmost  astonishment  and  curiosity.  He  had  heard 
vague  statements  of  his  grandfather's  connection  with  Barsac  in 
building  speculations,  but  he  had  no  notion  of  the  extent  of  them. 
The  Hereford  plans  included  a  terrace  called  Wyndham  terrace 
after  the  Dean,  and  a  square  not  yet  named,  which  Mr.  Barsac 
said  he  hoped  would  be  called  Wyndh  im  likewise. 


52  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS', 

"  I  hope  so  too,"  said  Reuben. 

"  At  all  events,  I  trust  it  will  not  be  called  Barsac  Squa  e : 
that  would  never  answer,"  added  the  merchant,  pronouncing  ihe 
words  "  Barsac  Square,"  with  an  evident  relish  and  enjoyment 
which  showed  that  he  coveted  nothing  so  much  as  the  honour 
and  glory  which  he  professed  himself  so  anxious,  to  avoid. 

"  I  trust  so,  too,  Sir,"  said  Reuben. 

"  But  I  trust  it  will,"  said  De  Tabley,  coming  up :  "  Barsac 
Square  sounds  a  thousand  times  better  than  Wyndham  Square, 
but  Medlicott  would  call  everything  Wyndham ;  Wyndham 
Square,  Wyndham  Terrace,  Wyndham  Lane,  Wyndham  every 
thing." 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  Reuben,  mildly,  "  1  should  do  no  such 
thing;  I  am  not  so  foolish." 

"  I  must  say  I  agree  with  Mr.  Medlicott  in  this  instance,"  said 
Barsac;  but  though  he  agreed  with  Medlicott,  he  smiled  upon 
De  Tabley,  and  graciously  conducted  him  to  the  refreshment- 
room,  leaving  the  too  candid  Reuben  to  shift  for  himself. 

"What  will  you  have?"  asked  the  merchant. 

"  What  do  you  recommend  ?"  said  De  Tabley. 

"Well,  suppose  we  begin  with  the  pato  de  Perigord."-  And 
he  helped  him  handsomely. 

"A  very  good  pie,"  said  De  Tabley;  "I  should  think  Peri 
gord  must  be  a  delightful  place  to  live  in,  wherever  it  is." 

"Near  Bordeaux,"  said  Mr.  Barsnc  ;  "you  liave  heard  of  the 
celebrated  Talleyrand,  Prince  of  Perigord. — So  a  glass  of  claret 
will  be  very  proper  along  with  it.  That's  the  comet  vintage; 
by-the-by,  I  should  be  glad  if  your  uncle  knew  we  had  some  of 
it  left,  it  is  a  great  favourite  of  his." 

"  I  shall  be  writing  to  him  to-morrow,"  said  De  Tabley  ;  "I'll 
take  care  to  mention  it." 

"  Some  ham  and  chicken  1"  said  the  merchant :  "  I  shall 
have  some  myself:  and  now,  it  you  please,  let  us  take  a  glass  of 
champagne  together." 

"  A  very  good  notion,'*  said  De  Tabley  ,  and  when  he  had 
dispatched  the  ham  and  chicken,  he  returned  the  compliment, 
and  proposed  a  glass  of  champagne  to  the  merchant. 

"You  take  champagne,"  said  Barsac,  "I'll  join  you  in  a 
glass  of  dry  sherry." 

De  Tabley  laughed,  and  looked  about  him  for  Winning  or 
Vigors  to  wink  at.  Barsac  thought  he  was.  amused  by  the 
epithot  "  dry"  applied  to  the  sherry,  and  gave  him  a  little  lecture 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  53 

upon  wines,  to  which  the  promising  young  gourmand  listened 
with  the  gravest  attention, — helping  himself  meanwhile,  Lowever, 
to  a  lohster  salad  within  his  reach.  Hearing  that  there  was  such 
a  wine  as  dry  champagne  as  well  as  dry  sherry,  he  was  curious 
to  taste  it,  but  there  happened  to  be  none  upon  the  table. 

"  I  dare  say  you  have  some  in  the  cellar,"  said  De  Tabley ; 
and  he  pressed  Barsac  to  such  a  degree,  that  he  actually 
went  to  his  cellars  and  brought  forth  a  flask  of  dry  champagne 
to  gratify  the  curiosity  of  his  impertinent  guest,  whose  vanity 
made  him  pronounce  a  high  panegyric  upon  it,  though  in  truth 
he  liked  the  sweet  wine  better. 

Barsac  soon  saw  the  necessity  of  drawing  De  Tabley  away 
from  the  temptation  into  which  he  had  led  him ;  and  this  was 
no  easy  matter  to  accomplish.  At  length  he  effected  it,  but  not 
until  the  incorrigible  young  gourmand  had  returned  to  the  sweet 
champagne,  and  was  beginning  again  to  ogle  the  Perigord. 

"  See  what  you  lost  by  your  simplicity,  and  I  must  say  by 
your  rudeness,"  he  whispered  Reuben,  whom  he  immediately 
went  in  search  of.  "  I  thought  Barsac  Square  just  as  absurd  as 
you  did,  but  I  had  the  wit  and  good  manners  not  to  say  so." 

"  What  did  I  lose  ?"  asked  Reuben. 

"  Dry  champagne,"  said  De  Tabley,  with  an  air  of  great  im 
portance,  "though  I  confess  I  think  the  other  pleasanter  stuff; 
but  the  best  of  it  was  that  I  made  the  old  cock  go  down  to  the 
cellar  for  it :  he  brought  up  a  flask  expressly  for  me.  At  the 
same  time,  I  know  very  well  he  wanted  me  to  recommend  the 
wine  to  my  uncle,  who  gets  the  house  immense  custom  in  the 
clubs  he  belongs  to  in  London." 

"Then  all  I  lost  was  the  dry  champagne?"  said  Reuben. 

"  Old  Barsac  gave  me  such  a  magnificent  supper.  I  had  ham 
and  chicken,  lobster  salad,  two  goes  at  a  Perigord  pie.  Perigord 
is  a  place  in  Bordeaux,  famous  for  its  pies ;  they  are  made  by  a 
celebrated  fellow  of  the  name  of  Tally — something:  Tallyho,  or 
Talleyrand,  a  prince — you  may  laugh,  but  Mr.  Barsac  himself 
told  me  so.  I  had  a  magnificent  supper;  I  have  got  a  capital 
head." 

"  For  wine,"  said  Reuben. 

"  Yes,  for  wine,  as  every  great  man  ought  to  have,"  replied 
De  Tabley.  "  I  have  heard  my  uncle  often  say  so ;  I  wish  you 
could  hear  the  anecdotes  he  tells  of  Pitt,  and  Fox,  and  Lord 
Eldon,  and  all  the  most  celebrated  characters  in  English  history." 

"  Not  all,"  said  Reuben. 


54  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

«  All  the  jolly  fellows,"  said  De  Tabley. 

Reuben  said  something  disparaging  of  the  pleasures  of  the 
bottle. 

"  Don't  abuse  wine  in  this  house,"  said  De  Tabley,  "  or  per 
haps  you  will  never  be  invited  again  ;  the  Barsacs  have  an  eye 
to  the  main  chance,  let  me  tell  you,  every  one  of  them,  even  Pale 
Sherry  herself,  sentimental  as  she  looks." 

Reuben  boiled  with  indignation. 

"  I  can  tell  you  more,"  said  the  other,  excited  by  the  wine  he 
had  drunk;  "you  made  a  monstrous  ass  of  yourself  to-night, 
coming  here  with  your  hands  full  of  books,  as  if  it  was  the  Phi 
losophical  Society.  Everybody  laughed  at  you,  even  Pale  Sherry 
herself — T  saw  her ;  she  would  have  preferred  a  bouquet  of  roses 
and  pinks,  I  can  tell  you." 

Reuben  was  greatly  provoked  by  these  remarks,  and  would 
perhaps  not  have  controlled  his  feelings  sufficiently,  if  Winning 
had  not  fortunately  approached  at  the  moment,  'conducting 
Blanche  to  the  refreshment-room.  As  Winning  passed,  he  good- 
naturedly  proposed  to  Reuben  to  join  them,  remembering  the 
Lent  he  had  kept  on  a  former  occasion,  and  determined  he  r.ow 
should  have  compensation.  Seated  between  his  considerate  frit  nd 
and  the  young  lady  he  so  greatly  admired,  Medlicott  was  in 
high  spirits,  and  ended  his  evening  with  a  good  supper. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  VICAR'S   ACCOUNT   OF   THE   BARSACS.      REUBEN   SHOWS   A  TALENT 
FOR   MUSIC.      HIS   FIRST   AND   HIS   LAST   PUGILISTIC   CONTEST. 

THE  following  day,  another  chronicle  of  the  gay  doings  at 
Mrs.  Barsac's  was  faithfully  dispatched  to  the  Vicarage.  Mrs. 
Medlicott  was  charmed  by  the  attention  paid  to  her  son ;  but 
the  Vicar  recollected  the  Dean's  observations,  and  wanted  to 
know  how  balls  and  suppers  were  to  be  reconciled  with  the 
business  of  the  school.  Mrs.  Medlicott  wished  her  son  to  receive 
the  education  of  a  man  of  the  world ;  her  husband  shrugged  his 
shoulders,  and  said  he  had  sent  his  son  to  school  to  Mr.  Brough, 
not  to  Mrs.  Barsac. 

Reuben's  correspondence  with  his  mother  recalls  us  for  a  few 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  55 

moments  to  Underwood  opportunely,  for  we  shall  hear  the  Vicar 
giving  old  Hannah  Hopkins  an  account  of  the  Barsacs,  which 
will  help  us  to  a  better  acquaintance  with  that  worthy  family. 
The  reading  of  Reuben's  letters  was  not  always  an  affair  of  the 
strictest  domestic  privacy,  which  may  serve  as  his  excuse  if  he 
did  not  upon  every  occasion  unbosom  himself  on  paper,  even  to 
his  father  and  mother.  Sometimes  Mr.  Pigwidgeon,  the  apothe 
cary,  was  invited  to  the  reading  of  a  letter  from  Hereford  ;  some 
times  it  was  only  Hannah  and  Mary  Hopkins,  or  old  Matthew 
Cox,  the  tobacconist.  The  Quakeresses  were  present  when  the 
letter  arrived  with  the  account  of  Mrs.  Barsac's  second  fSte,  and 
Hannah  was  interested  and  inquisitive  about  the  people  who  were 
so  good  to  her  old  pupil.  Possibty,  though  belonging  to  such 
an  unworldly  sect  as  the  Quakers  professedly  are,  and  a  woman 
who  had  even  been  a  minister,  and  lifted  up  her  voice  in  the 
Meeting,  old  Hannah  had  not  thoroughly  divested  herself  of  all 
human  sympathy  and  womanly  concern  in  its  gay  doings  and 
wicked  ways.  There  will  still  cling  some  little  portion  of  earth 
about  us  all,  even  about  the  disciples  of  Fox  and  sisters  of  Mrs. 
Fry. 

"  I'll  tell  thee  all  I  know,  Hannah,  and  it's  not  much,"  said 
the  Vicar.  He  had  fallen  into  the  habit  of  thee-and-tho.u-ing  it 
with  his  Quaker  friends,  without  the  least  approach  to  mockery 
of  their  personal  pronouns. 

Hannah  Hopkins  was  sitting  rigidly  perpendicular  on  a  rustic 
seat  in  the  garden,  beneath  a  walnut-tree,  knitting,  as  usual,  most 
industriously.  It  was  an  employment  she  seldom  intermitted 
during  the  day,  ^cept  when  she  was  eating  her  meals,  or  collect 
ing  flowers  and  grasses.  Mary  was  not  far  off,  knitting  also. 
There  was  a  little  table  near  Hannah,  with  a  plate  of  strawberries 
upon  it,  and  Reuben's  letter,  which  his  mother  had  just  been 
reading. 

"  I  am  ready  to  hear  thee,  friend  Thomas,"  said  the  Quaker 
mother;  "thou'art  always  instructive  or  entertaining." 

"  Generally  both,  mother,"  said  Mary,  who  was  burning  in 
secret  to  hear  the  promised  revelations,  notwithstanding  the  plain 
ness  of  her  bonnet. 

The  Vicar,  thus  complimented  and  encouraged,  proceeded  to 
say  that  the  Barsacs  were  the  people  who  understood  the  art  so 
well  of  making  pleasure  and  profit  go  hand  in  hand. 

"  Merry  and  wise,"  said  Hannah. 

Mrs.  Barsac's  system,  the  Vicar  went  on  to  state,  was  (as  far 


66  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

as  he  understood  it),  to  give  balls  to  marry  her  daughters,  while 
her  husband  gave  sumptuous  dinners  to  advertise  and  recommend 
his  wines.  What  would  be  extravagance  with  other  people  was 
thrift  with  the  wine-rnerchant  of  Hereford.  For  every  glass  of 
champagne  that  sparkled  at  his  board  (here  the  Vicar  digressed 
on  the  subject  of  champagne,  to  explain  it  to  the  Quakeresses), 
Mr.  Barsac  sold  a  flask,  or  perhaps  a  case  of  it.  People  had  a 
decided  interest  in  dealing  with  a  wine-merchant  who  gave  them 
handsome  entertainments  ;  it  was  an  abatement  in  the  price  of 
the  wines;  in  fact,  a  dinner  was  both  an  advertisement  and  a 
description  of  discount.  The  balls  were  more  to  advertise  the 
daughters,  an  article  of  which  Mrs.  Barsac  had  a  large  stock  on 
her  hands,  as  her  husband  had  wine  in  his  vaults  ;  but  there  was 
a  great  difference,  said  the  Vicar,  between  the  two  commodities, 
for  the  older  the  wine  grew  it  was  the  more  in  demand,  whereas 
with  the  girls  it  was  not  precisely  the  same  thing. 

Here  Mary  Hopkins  laughed.  I  believe  it  was  the  cautious 
way  in  which  Mr.  Medlicott  put  the  distinction  between  women 
and  wine  that  overset  her  gravity,  but  it  was  ne\  er  very  difficult 
to  do  it. 

"  Laugh  and  be  fat,"  said  old  Hannah,  an  injunction  which 
she  repeated  a  dozen  times  a  day,  and  very  superfluously,  inas 
much  as  her  daughter  had  already  very  dutifully  complied  with  it. 

"  Well,  Hannah,"  said  the  Vicar,  "  I  have  now  told  you  what 
the  world  says  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barsac." 

"There  are  wheels  within  wheels,"  said  the  old  Quakeress, 
shaking  her  head  horizontally  several  times. 

"  Dost  thee  believe  all  the  world  says,  friend  Thomas  ?"  said 
Maiy,  recovering  her  sobriety. 

"  The  world,  Mary,  has  a  very  lively  fancy,  and  a  very  busy 
tongue,"  said  the  Vicar.  "  My  private  opinion  is  that  the  Barsacs 
are  very  good-natured  people,  and  if  their  good-nature  and  gaiety 
make  them  richer  instead  of  poorer,  I  don't  see  that  any  body  has 
a  right  to  complain.  For  my  own  part,  theirs  is  just  the  house 
where  I  should  feel  myself  most  comfortable,  for  I  never  could 
enjoy  myself  anywhere,  when  I  had  reason  to  think  my  friends 
were  committing  a  folly,  or  involving  themselves  in  difficulties  to 
entertain  me." 

"  And  I  am  sure,"  added  Mrs.  Medlicott,  "  it  is  the  purest 
good-nature  to  invite  the  boys,  who  neither  buy  Mr.  Barsac's 
wine,  nor  are  likely  to  propose  for  his  daughters." 

The   truth   was,  however,  that  the  attentions  paid   to  Mr. 


OR,  THE  COMING   MAN.  67 

Brough's  scholars  were  chiefly  in  furtherance  of  the  system  which 
the  world  very  justly  imputed  to  the  wine-merchant  and  his  wife. 
Their  invitations  were  by  no  means  indiscriminate,  but  confined 
to  those  boys  whose  fathers  were  customers  of  the  firm,  or  with 
whose  families  the  managing  Mrs.  Barsac  thought  it  would  pro 
mote  her  interest  to  be  acquainted  or  connected.  Thus  De  Tabley 
was  never  omitted,  because  he  was  nephew  of  Sir  John  De 
Tabley,  a  beau  and  bon-vivant  of  the  old  school,  whose  influence 
procured  for  Barsac  the  profitable  custom  of  the  -Noodle's,  and 
Boodle's,  and  one  or  two  other  London  clubs.  Winning  was 
nearly  related  to  a  Mr.  St.  Stephen,  who  was  a  bencher  of  the 
Inner  Temple,  through  whom  it  was  not  impossible  but  that  Bar- 
sac  might  some  day  or  other  be  appointed  wine  merchant  to  that 
honourable  and  learned  society.  Several  of  the  lads  (Vigors  for 
instance)  were  sons  of  beneficed  clergymen  in  the  neighbourhood; 
and  as  to  Reuben,  he  had  the  double  claim  of  being  nephew  to 
Mrs.  Mountjoy,  connected  with  the  Barsacs  by  marriage,  and 
grandson  of  Dean  Wyndham,  who  besides  being  actually  a  cus 
tomer,  was  from  his  rank  in  the  Church  a  man  wlxom  Mrs.  Barsac 
would  have  probably  courted  upon  that  account  alone.  Of  course 
if  any  young  man  was  particularly  handsome,  amusing,  or  recom 
mended  by  Mr.  Brough,  he  was  noticed  by  Mrs.  Barsac  without 
reference  to  the  mercantile  interest.  Winning  would  probably 
have  been  a  favourite  under  any  circumstances.  There  was  Hya 
cinth  Primrose  too,  who  had  nothing  to  support  him  but  his  good 
looks  and  his  flow  of  spirits.  There  were  also  one  class  of  boys 
who  were  seldom  or  ever  countenanced  by  Mrs.  Barsac,  and  these 
were  the  sons  of  families  who  were  in  any  trade  which  she  con 
sidered  less  dignified  than  traffic  in  wine.  The  Vicar  understood 
the  Barsacs  very  imperfectly,  although  he  undertook  to  give  Mrs. 
Hopkins  an  account  of  them. 

A  shower  now  began  to  patter  among  the  leaves  of  the  wal 
nut  tree,  which  served  the  purposes  of  a  green  umbrella  for  some 
time  tolerably  well,  but  when  the  drops  began  to  increase  in 
weight  and  number  they  forced  their  way  through  the  canopy, 
and  one  at  length  falling  on  Mrs.  Hopkins's  knitting,  and  another 
with  a  splash  on  Reuben's  letter,  the  seance  was  broken  up,  and 
the  party  retreated  into  the  house  as  fast  as  they  could,  Mary 
running  with  the  plate  of  strawberries  and  laughing  all  the  time. 
Let  us  take  the  same  opportunity  of  returning  to  Hereford,  where 
we  shall  find  Reuben  increasing  the  number  of  his  accomplish 
ments  by  picking  up  a  few  notes  of  music. 


58  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

Meeting  the  French  shoemaker  in  the  streets  one  day,  Adolphe 
gracefully  saluted  him,  hoped  his  shoes  gave  him  contentment, 
and  asked  when  he  would  do  him  the  honour  of  calling 
again  and  listening  to  an  air  on  the  flageolet.  Reuben  said  he 
would  call  the  next  day.  He  kept  his  engagement,  and  the  result 
was  that  from  a  listener  he  became  a  learner,  and  commenced 
flageolet-playing  himself.  After  a  few  clandestine  lessons,  during 
which  he  improved  his  knowledge  of  French  also,  our  hero  began 
to  reproach  himself  with  concealing  his  new  accomplishment  from 
Winning,  and  also  with  occupying  the  time  of  a  poor  tradesman 
without  reward  ;  but  when  he  mentioned  the  latter  scruple  to 
Adolphe,  there  was  an  end  of  it ;  he  professed  shoemaking,  not 
music ;  but  even  if  it  had  been  otherwise,  the  glory  of  having  so 
promising  a  scholar  would  pay  him  for  his  pains  twenty  times 
over ;  besides  Monsieur  Reuben  would  recommend  his  shoes ;  and 
through  him  and  M.  Vinning,  the  custom  of  all  the  school  would 
be  secured  for  his  little  commerce. 

The  first  intimation  Winning  had  of  Reuben's  flageolet-playing 
was  unfortunately  not  from  his  friend  andprotegt  himself.  De  Tab- 
ley  was  jeering  at  Medlicott  one  morning  on  the  now  threadbare 
topic  of  his  multifarious  acquirements,  when  Winning  came  up  and 
told  him  impetuously  that  he  would  suffer  no  more  of  his  imper 
tinence  upon  that  point ;  that  Medlicott  Was  under  his  protection, 
and  protect  him  he  was  resolved  to  do.  It  would  be  long  enough 
before  any  one  would  taunt  De  Tabley  with  knowing  too  many 
things,  or  knowing  any  one  thing  decently.  "  By  the  by,"  he 
added,  "  I  recollect  your  insolence  at  Mrs.  Barsac's  ball ;  if  I  had 
not  had  a  lady  on  my  arm,  I  would  have  called  you  then  to  a 
severe  account." 

"  I  only  said  what  was  true,"  said  De  Tabley,  moving  to  some 
little  distance  from  Winning,  for  his  courage  was  of  that  kind 
that  is  commonly  called  pot-valiant. 

"It  was  not  true,"  said  Winning,  drily. 

"  It  was,"  repeated  De  Tabley,  "  and  I  might  have  added 
music  into  the  bargain." 

"You  would  then  have  added  another  falsehood,"  said 
Winning. 

"  Why  Medlicott  is  taking  lessons  on  the  flute,"  retorted  the 
other. 

"  De  Tabley,  I  sha!_  be  obliged  to  thrash  you." 

De  Tabley  moved  a  little  further  off,  muttering — "  It's  true 
nevertheless,  and  you  know  it  as  well  as  I  do." 


OK,  THE  COMING  MAN.  69 

Winning  heard  the  muttered  speech  and  dashed  at  him ;  but 
he  had  only  given  him  one  blow,  which  merely  knocked  his  hat 
down  over  his  eyes,  when  Reuben  Medlicott  rushing  forward 
caught  his  arm,  crying — 

"  Stop,  Winning, — let  him  alone — what  he  says  is  true — at 
least  nearly  true — only  it's  the 'flageolet,  not  the  flute." 

Winning  turned  round  amazed  upon  Medlicott,  and  glaring 
on  him  like  a  tiger. 

"  Flute  or  flageolet,  how  do  you  come  to  be  learning  it  with 
out  iny  knowledge  and  permission, — who's  your  music-master  ? 
answer  this  moment — the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing 
but  the  truth,  or  I'll  give  you  what  I  was  going  to  give  De  Tab- 
ley,  whose  pardon  I  beg  most  humbly." 

"  Hear  me  patiently,"  said  Reuben,  "  and  I'll  tell  you  all 
about  it ;  I  was  going  to  tell  you  all,  when  I  was  anticipated." 

"  Don't  make  your  case  worse  than  it  is,"  said  Winning ;  "  it's 
bad  enough  as  it  stands, — follow  me,  I'll  examine  you  in  private." 

De  Tabley  had  heard  of  our  hero's  proceedings  from  the  very 
best  authority,  namely  Adolphe  himself,  from  whom  Winning 
would  have  heard  the  same  story  himself,  had  he  chanced  to 
have  wanted  a  pair  of  shoes. 

Winning  was  very  much  disposed,  upon  the  whole  of  the 
matter,  to  give  Reuben  a  drubbing  for  want  of  straightforward 
ness  and  candour.  However,  he  was  as  merciful  as  he  was 
strong,  and  spared  his  delinquent  subject ;  ordering  him,  how 
ever,  either  to  give  up  the  flageolet  forthwith,  or  obtain  the  prin 
cipal's  sanction  for  continuing  the  shoemaker's  pupil.  Reuben 
chose  the  latter  side  of  the  alternative,  and  obtained  the  permis 
sion  without  much  difficulty,  no  other  conditions  being  imposed 
than  an  inquiry  into  the  moral  character  of  M.  Adolphe,  and  the 
equally  proper  step  of  applying  for  the  consent  of  his  parents. 

His  acquaintance  with  the  French  shoemaker  occasioned  a 
ludicrous  mistake,  and  involved  him  in  one  of  the  few  personal 
rencontres  he  was  ever  so  unlucky  as  to  be  engaged  in.  A  group 
of  boys  were  standing  talking  under  a  colonnade  one  showery 
morning,  waiting  for  the  weather  to  clear  up.  They  first  talked 
of  their  fathers,  and  then  of  their  grandfathers — at  least  as  many 
as  had  grandfathers  to  talk  of.  De  Tabley  said  his  grandfather 
had  been  a  judge.  Vigors  said  his  was  a  physician,  and  other 
b  >ys  made  similar  statements.  The  light-hearted  Primrose  said 
his  father  was  a  painter,  and  his  grandfather  a  poet. 

''  Is  a  poet  a  profession  2"  said  another. 


60  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

"It's  a  bad  trade,  I  believe,"  said  Primrose,  laughing;  "at 
least  my  grandsire  found  it  so,  for  he  left  my  father  nothing  but 
his  poems,  which  with  my  father's  pallet  will  descend  to  me;  so 
that  at  all  events  I  shall  have  two  estates,  sucli»as  they  are." 

After  the  boys  had  laughed  at  this  speech,  one  of  them  named 
Peters,  looked  excessively  knowing,  and  said  there  was  a  boy  in 
the  school  whose  grandfather  was  a  barber.  Some  laughed  doubt- 
ingly,  and  some  cried,  "  name,  name."  Peters  at  first  refused, 
but  upon  being  taunted  with  being  afraid  to  speak  out,  for  fear 
of  being  thrashed  by  the  barber's  descendant ;  he  declared  that 
he  meant  Medlicott.  De  Tabley  called  instantly  to  Reuben,  only 
too  happy  to  tell  him  of  the  serious  charge  brought  against  him 
by  Peters. 

Reuben  laughed,  and  said  he  thought  they  all  knew  that 
Dean  Wyndham  was  his  grandfather. 

"  That  we  know  very  well,"  said  De  Tabley ;  "  but  I  presume 
you  sport  two  grandfathers ; — at  least  I  do." 

"  So  do  I,"  said  several  boys,  chuckling  at  De  Tabley's  wit. 
Now  it  happened  that  Reuben  knew  very  little  of  his  paternal 
grandfather,  except  that  he  had  been  in  trade ;  so  when  he  was 
pressed  to  say  what  station  in  life  that  venerable  gentleman  had 
filled,  the  only  answer  he  could  think  of  was  that  he  had  been 
in  business. 

"  Then  Peters  is  right  enough,  I  have  no  doubt,"  said  De 
Tabley,  insolently. 

"  He  is  not,"  said  Reuben,  glowing  like  a  live  coal. 
Peters  repeated  his  assertion ;  Reuben  repeated  his  contra 
diction. 

"  Give  him  the  lie,"  said  a  friendly  boy  at  his  elbow. 
Reuben,  altogether  unused  to  rude  language,  hesitated. 
"  He  has  the  barber's  blood  in  him,  for  a  thousand  pounds," 
said  De  Tabley. 

Reuben  was  now  stung  to  the  quick,  and  instantly  pro 
nounced  the  decisive  monosyllable. 

They  fought  three  awkward  rounds,  Reuben  with  the  disad 
vantage  of  being  new  to  such  encounters,  and  having  only  one 
boy  to  back  him ;  while  Peters,  with  little  more  experience  in 
pugilism,  had  the  advantage  of  being  the  general  favourite.  In 
the  second  round  one  of  Reuben's  blue  eyes  was  metamorphosed 
into  a  black  one,  but  Peters  in  return  received  a  random  saluta 
tion  on  the  nose,  which  was  a  fair  exchange  for  the  damage  he 
had  inflicted.  Winning  came  up  just  as  the  third  commenced. 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN.  61 

Tlierc  was  no  time  to  inquire  how  the  quarrel  originated.  Win- 
nino-  merely  took  his  place  among  the  spectators,  but  that  was  a 
great  point  for  Reuben,  who,  being  now  supported  by  the  pre 
sence  of  his  patron,  as  well  as  by  the  justice  of  his  quarrrel, 
speedily  vanquished  his  antagonist,  who  had  no  great  stomach 
for  blows. 

"  Now,"  said  Winning,  "  what  has  all  this  been  about  ?" 

De  Tabley  told  him  the  whole  story,  and  Peters  said  that 
his  authority  was  Adolphe,  the  French  shoemaker. 

"  I  think,"  said  Winning,  "  Medlicott  himself  is  a  better  au 
thority  on  a  matter  of  the  kind  than  Adolphe  or  any  one  else 
can  possibly  be.  The  whole  affair  is  supremely  ridiculous ;  let 
us  go  to  Adolphe,  and  find  out  how  the  mistake  arose." 

The  matter  was  easily  explained.  It  arose  out  of  a  confused 
account  the  shoemaker  had  received  from  his  sister  Louise,  of 
the  hair-cuttif^  scene  at  the  Vicarage  the  night  before  Reuben 
left  home  for  school. 

Adolphe  was  so  profuse  of  apologies  for  having  retailed  the 
story  to  Peters,  and  in  such  an  abyss  of  affliction  at  the  conse 
quences  of  his  indiscretion,  particularly  when  he  saw  his  pupil's ' 
black  eye,  that  Reuben's  resentment  lasted  a  very  short  time  in 
deed. 

Yet  his  black  eye  was  a  serious  disaster,  for  while  his  face 
was  still  disfigured  with  it,  the  Barsacs  invited  Winning  and  him 
to  a  family  dinner.  Reuben  repined  bitterly  at  not  being  in  a 
condition  to  accept  an  invitation  which  flattered  him  more  than 
any  he  had  yet  received,  and  over  and  over  repeated  his  injunc 
tions  to  his  friend  to  assure  both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barsac  that  the 
written  excuse  he  had  sent,  pleading  the  effects  of  an  accident, 
was  a  bond  fide  one.  What  he  secretly  dreaded  most  was  that 
Blanche  Barsac  should  think  he  preferred  any  pleasure  in  the 
world  to  the  light  of  her  sweet  eyes,  which  would,  indeed,  have 
been  doing  him  great  injustice;  for  the  saint  in  the  song  was  not 
more  diligent  to  shun  the  eyes  of  the  hapless  Kathleen  than  Reu 
ben  had  been  to  pursue  Blanche's,  ever  since  he  had  first  basked 
in  their  lustre.  He  had  not,  indeed,  been  often  successful.  The 
hours  of  business  seemed  often  to  have  been  expressly  arranged 
to  cross  his  more  agreeable  occupations ;  nay,  even  those  of  re 
creation  were  unaccommodating  enough  ;  for  he  was  as  much  at 
Winning's  disposal  as  Mr.  Brough's,  and  the  two  taskmasters 
appeared  on  some  occasions  in  a  conspiracy  to  thwart  him. 
Since  the  second  ball  at  Mrs.  Barsac's,  he  had  never  seen  Blanche 


62  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

but  twice, — once  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening,  walking  with  a  bevy 
of  ladies  and  an  old  gentleman,  very  like  his  grandfather ;  and 
again,  coming  out  of  the  Cathedral  after  divine  service,  when  he 
even  touched  her  dress,  though  in  the  crowd  she  was  not  aware 
of  his  presence.  Nothing  provoked  Reuben  more  than  the  stupid 
system  Mr.  Brough  had  of  taking  his  boys  to  the  Church  of  All 
Saints  instead,  of  the  Cathedral,  where  the  service  was  so  much 
more  solemnly  performed,  and  where  the  Barsacs  invariably  went. 

Misfortune,  indeed,  may  be  said  to  have  persecuted  Reuben 
at  this  epoch ;  for  when  the  next  festivity  took  place  at  the  wine- 
merchant's,  and  there  was  no  black  eye  to  prevent  him  from 
sharing  it,  Blanche  was  from  home,  on  some  visit  to  relations,  as 
she  had  often  been  when  poor  Reuben  was  running  in  all  direc 
tions  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  her. 

It  was  most  probably  about  this  period  that  Reuben's  young 
brain,  excited  by  the  action  of  his  susceptible  hesdt,  began  first 
to  secrete  that  particular  humour  called  poetry,  a  certain  quan 
tity  of  which  (be  the  quality  what  it  may)  is  supposed  by  some 
philosophers  to  exist  in  the  head  of  every  man  born  of  woman. 
It  is  not  very  clear,  however,  whether  he  wrote  poetry  before  he 
wrote  prose,  or  whether  the  productions  came  forth  in  the  reverse 
order.  Probably  the  two  fountains  within  him  began  to  flow 
much  about  the  same  time ;  for  Hyacinth  Primrose  had  unques 
tionably  commenced  distinguishing  himself  both  in  prose  and 
rhyme,  and  it  was  not  likely  that  the  versatile  and  imitative 
Reuben  was  far  behind  him  in  the  one  accomplishment  more 
than  the  other.  Reuben  and  Primrose  fraternised  early.  Among 
other  enterprises,  they  established  a  manuscript  magazine,  of 
which  they  were  joint  editors,  and  almost  the  sole  contributors ; 
so  that,  between  the  business  of  the  school  and  the  business  they 
made  for  themselves,  they  had  work  enough  on  their  hands  for 
their  leisure  hours,  especially  Reuben,  who  had  his  flageolet  to 
practise  and  Blanche  to  think  of  into  the  bargain.  The  business 
of  the  school,  however,  was  not  neglected,  for  both  Reuben  and 
Hyacinth  loved  the  classics.  Reuben's  first  essay  of  any  length 
in  verse  was  a  translation  of  the  story  of  Pyramus  and  Thisbe, 
which,  in  point  of  merit,  challenged  comparison  with  the  drama 
of  the  same  name,  enacted  by  Mr.  Bottom  and  his  company, — 
a  drama  which  is  believed,  upon  valid  grounds,  to  be  the  work 
of  Shakspeare  himself.  Neither  Mr.  Brough  nor  Henry  Win 
ning,  therefore,  had  any  ground  for  complaint,  and  neither  of 
them  did  complain, — Mr.  Brough  because  he  knew  nothing 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  63 

about  the  literary  labours  in  question,  And  Winning  because  he 
was  extremely  busy  himself,  and  his  good  sense  pointed  out  the 
folly  of  interfering  too  much  in  the  character  of  a  Mentor,  even 
with  a  boy  whom  he  loved  as  he  did  Reuben. 


.      CHAPTER  V. 

A  CHAPTER  OP  GOOD   ADVICE   AND  ' OF  GOOD   INTENTIONS. 

THE  time,  indeed,  soon  came  for  Henry  Winning  to  leave  school 
for  college.  A  brilliant  career  was  evidently  before  him ;  for  to 
talent  he  united  industry,  and  to  both  high  principle  and  frank 
popular  manners.  He  had  a  manly  person,  moreover,  a  good 
constitution,  and  a  good  voice,  so  that  he  possessed  the  physical 
as  well  as  the  intellectual  qualities  which  the  bar  requires ;  for 
that  was  the  profession  upon  which,  no  less  by  his  own  inclina 
tion  than  by  the  advice  of  his  relative  and  guardian,  Mr.  St. 
Stephen,  he  had  fixed  his  choice.  Winning  was  sorry  to  part 
with  Reuben,  appreciating  his  amiable  disposition,  and  recognis 
ing  his  abilities  while  he  perceived  the  radical  faults  of  his  cha 
racter,  and  had  done  all  in  his  power  to  correct  them. 

"  You  are  too  versatile  and  too  squeezable,  my  dear  fellow,"  he 
said,  as  they  strolled  in  the  fields  together  the  day  before  their 
separation  ;  "  those  are  your  defects,  if  it  is  not  presumptuous  in 
me  to  tell  you  of  them." 

With  the  greatest  sincerity,  Reuben  thanked  him  for  taking 
so  friendly  a  liberty. 

"  You  take  impressions  too  readily,  and  pursue  too  many  ob 
jects,  not  reflecting  that  life  is  so  short  that  there  is  no  more  than 
time  for -a  fair  degree  of  success  in  some  one  leading  pursuit. 
Ars  longa,  vita  bwvis — you  remember  that  pregn'ant  aphorism 
of  Hippocrates.  What  I  now  say  to  you  is  not  any  wisdom  of 
my  own,  for  I  possess  none  and  I  pretend  to  none  ;  it  is  what  my 
guardian,  Mr.  St.  Stephen,  one  of  the  ablest  and  most  successful 
men  of  the  day,  has  always  impressed  upon  my  mind,  and  firm 
ly  believing  in  its  truth  and  importance,  I  would  be  glad,  my 
dear  fellow,  to  impress  it  in  '.urn  upon  yours.  I  have  observed, 
although  I  have  said  very  little  to  you  on  the  subject,  how  Prim 
rose  has  been  influencing  you  of  late ;  you  have  been  writing 


64  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

essays  and  making  verses  because  he  does  so,  just  as  you  took 
up  the  flageolet  because  your  shoemaker  played  it ;  in  fact,  you 
possess  a  great  many  talents,  a  facility  for  picking  up  almost 
everything  that  you  see  done  by  any  body;  and  pardon  me  if  I 
add,  that  you  seem  more  disposed  to  hearken  to  the  praises  of 
shallow  people  who  call  you  a  clever  fellow  for  all  this,  than  to 
believe  me,  for  example,  when  I  try  to  show  you  the  dangers 
of  it." 

Reuben  pleaded  guilty  to  every  charge  but  that  of  swallow 
ing  the  sort  of  compliments  alluded  to  by  his  friend ;  but  prob 
ably  his  conscience  smote  him  that  there  was  something  even  in 
that  accusation  not  altogether  unfounded  in  truth. 

Reuben  had  as  yet  scarcely  though^of  a  profession.  "The 
Church  had  always  been  his  father's  plan  for  him,  but  the  sub 
ject  had  not  received  mature  consideration,  either  from  himself 
or  his  parents.  There  seemed  time  enough  to  discuss  the  ques 
tion  in  the  case  of  a  boy  under  sixteen.  Winniig,  however, 
now  spoke  of  it  in  his  direct  practical  way,  wishing  to  discover 
whether  Medlicott  had  any  strong  leaning  towards  any  particu 
lar  vocation,  and  hoping  that,  like  himself,  he  would  decide  in 
favour  of  the  Law.  But  neither  law,  physic,  nor  divinity  had  as 
yet  seized  hold  of  Reuben's  imagination.  He  thought  it  likely 
that  the  Church  would  eventually  be  his  destiny ;  but  he  was 
equally  disposed  to  the  bar,  and  he  had  no  decided  dislike  to  the 
notion  of  physic.  Such  ideas  of  a  career  as  Reuben  had  were 
of  the  most  confused,  but  most  high-flown  and  disinterested 
character.  He  had  no  notion  of  emolument  at  all,  or  of  prose 
cuting  any  pursuit  with  a  view  to  make  money  by  it.  Winning, 
although  his  character  was  ingenuous,  and  had  even  a  noble 
strain,  had  already  caught  the  worldly  spirit,  without  which 
worldly  success  is  not  very  easily  attained  ;  but  Medlicott  had 
not  a  conception  of  lucre.  In  his  pure  romantic  mind, 
divinity  was  indeed  divine,  and  every  other  calling  was  almost 
as  ethereal  as  divinity :  when  he  thought  of  the  law,  it  was  only 
as  the  science  of  justice,  unpolluted  by  the  notion  of  a  fee ;  and 
when  medicine  took  its  turn  in  his  cogitations,  the  notion  he  had 
of  a  physician's  life  was  a  sort  of  Quixotic  ramble  through  the 
world,  tilting  with  disease  and  pestilence,  out  of  mere  unadul 
terated  philanthropy. 

It  was  very  clear  that  the  time  was  not  yet  come  for  coupling 
the  wisdom  of  the  serpent  with  the  innocence  of  the  dove  in 
young  Medlicott's  understanding.  Winning,  however,  was  far 


OR,  THE   COMTtfG   MAN.  65 

from  ridiculing  or  despising  him  for  this.  On  the  contrary,  he 
could  not  help  thinking  to  himself  how  few  boys  he  had  ever  met 
with  who  were  not  more  or  less  infected  prematurely  with  the 
sordid  spirit  of  life ;  and  though  lie  would  have  wished  Reuben's 
head  a  little  harder,  he  found  an  attraction  in  his  rare  simplicity, 
and  parted  from  him  with  a  feeling  of  strong  and  tender  attach 
ment. 

"  Well,  Reuben,"  was  his  last  observation,  "  as  to  the  profes 
sion,  you  have  lost  no  time;  it  is  a  subject  on  which  the  minds  of 
most  people  waver  a  considerable  time  before  they  fix  ;  your  pre 
sent  business  is  the  knowledge  and  preparation  equally  necessary 
for  all  professions.  Mind  that  steadily.  Hoc  age — another  preg 
nant  maxim  ;  let  me  h^fr  from  you  ;  I  shall  be  backwards  and 
forwards  a  good  deal  between  Cambridge  and  Lincoln's  Inn." 

The  young  men  parted  affectionately,  in  a  few  hours  after  the 
preceding  conversation,  and  the  next  day,  in  the  same  place, 
Reuben  was  sauntering  with  Hyacinth  Primrose,  the  poet's  grand 
son,  repeating  to  him  the  sage  counsels  he  had  received  from  his 
friend ;  resolving  himself  to  be  guided  by  them  rigidly  and  un 
swervingly  for  the  future,  and  deeply  impressed  with  the  duty  of 
making  Primrose  a  convert  to  them  also.  Hyacinth  was,  indeed, 
profoundly  impressed  for  a  minute  or  two  with  the  sound  wisdom 
of  Winning's  remonstrances,  and,  pulling  out  a  pocket  Shak- 
speare,  introduced  Reuben  to  that  splendid  passage  in  "Troilus 
and  Cressida,"  where  Ulysses,  in  a  strain  so  wise  and  eloquent, 
recommends  the  virtue  of  perseverance  : 

"  Perseverance,  dear  my  lord, 
keeps  honour  bright.     To  have  done  is'to  hang 
Quite  out  of  fashion.     Take  the  instant  way, 
For  honour  travels  in  a  strait  so  narrow, 
"Where  one  but  goes  abreast     Keep  the  path, 
For  emulation  has  a  thousand  sons 
That  one  by  one  pursue :  if  you  give  way, 
Or  hedge  aside  from  the  direct  forthright, 
Like  to  an  entered  tide  they  all  rush  by, 
And  leave  you  hindmost" 

Reuben,  to  whom  the  wocks  of  the  great  dramatist  were  yet 
an  unworked  mine,  was  delighted  with  the  aptness  of  this  quota 
tion,  and  borrowed  the  book  from  Primrose  to  make  himself 
master  of  the  entire  of  the  play  containing  it.  Hyacinth  was 
enthusiastic  on  the  subject  of  Shakspeare,  and  had  a  rhapsody  in 
his  praise  at  his  fingers'  ends ;  how  he  was  an  encyclopaedia  of 


66  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

poetry,  an  armoury  of  philosophy,  a  library  of  knowledge,  a  maga 
zine  of  thought,  a  body  of  divinity.  Reuben  soon  fell  into  the 
same  transports.  Primrose  and  he  were  proofs  that  a  man  may 
be  mad  about  wisdom  without  being  wise,  just  as  he  may  be  wild 
about  poetry  and  wit,  without  being  either  a  wit  or  a  poet. 

As  an  invalid,  when  he  dismisses  one  doctor,  usually  sends  for 
another,  or  as  a  sultan,  having  bow-stringed  his  vizier,  promotes 
some  one  else  to  the  post,  so  did  Reuben  Medlicott,  after  the  loss 
of  Winning,  finding  a  bosom  friend  and  bookmate  indispensable, 
select  the  light-hearted  and  literary  Hyacinth  Primrose,  to  fill 
those  important  offices  about  his  person  ;  an  unfortunate  choice, 
but  a  very  excusable  one,  as  Primrose  was  one  of  the  most  intel 
lectual  boys  in  the  school, — in  fact,  the  fUly  boy  of  abilities  and 
tastes  akin  to  Reuben's,  after  Winning  had  left  Finchley. 

The  volatility  of  the  new  minister  was  of  a  livelier  description 
than  Reuben's,  who  at  this  period  of  his  life  was  rather  a  pense- 
roso,  and  except  when  he  was  in  his  loquacious  mood,  enjoyed 
the  mirth  of  his  companions  in  a  sort  of  passive  melancholy  way, 
that  was  partly  his  temperament,  but  not  altogether,  perhaps,  free 
from  affectation.  Primrose  was  always  gay.  always  riant;  full 
of  pleasantry  sometimes  malicious,  generally  good-natured  ;  he 
saw  every  object  in  a  rose-coloured  light;  and  was  determined  to 
prosecute  literature  to  please  himself,  while  he  studied  the  law  to 
please  his  relations. 

"  I'll  read  law,"  he  said.  "  I'll  make  myself  a  lawyer,  a' 
black-letter  lawyer ;  I  don't  at  all  despair  of  being  a  judge ;  but 
I  don't  pretend  that  I  have  any  love  for  the  profession.  However, 
a  profession  is  necessary,  and  a  profession  1  must  have.  I'll  make 
my  bread  by  the  bar  and  my  character  by  the  pen.  That's  my 
plan,  Medlicott ;  is  it  not  a  good  one  ?" 

';  Remember  Winning's  maxim,"  Reuben  would  say  gravely ; 
u  remember  the  wise  aphorism  of  Hippocrates." 

"  But,  Medlicott,  I  have  been  reading  about  Hippocrates  lately, 
and  I  find  he  was  not  a  mere  physician,  but  a  brilliant  and  almost 
universal  genius.  I  shall  probably  write  his  life  one  of  these 
days." 


OK,  THE   COMING  MAN.  67 


CHAPTER  VL 

CHIEFLY   OCCUPIED    WITH  THE  ILL  BEHAVIOUR  OF  AN  (  LD  GENTLEMAN 
AND   THE    DU.COMFORT   IT   OCCASIONED   A   TOUN  &   ONE. 

THE  school  at  Hereford  had  been  selected  for  Reuben  partly  on 
account  of  the  benefice  which  his  grandfather  had  in  the  neigh 
bourhood  ;  but  of  so  little  use  to  him  was  the  circumstance,  that 
he  had  now  been  nearly  three  years  at  Finchley  without  seeing  his 
venerable  relative  scarcely  the  same  number  of  times.  Dean 
Wyndham  appeared  there  occasionally,  just  as  he  did  at  Chiches-^ 
ter  and  other  places,  arriving  unexpectedly  and  departing  abruptly, 
as  comets  were  wont  to  do  before  the  astronomers  got  their  mo 
tions  under  proper  control.  When  the  Dean  did  show  himself 
in  this  part  of  his  orbit,  he  did  not  altogether  neglect  his  grand 
child,  but  his  attentions  were  little  more  than  a  chuck  under  the 
chin  at  one  visit,  and  a  question  in  prosody  or  Roman  antiquities 
at  another.  About  the  period  of  Winning's  departure,  however, 
the  old  gentleman  was  beginning  to  be  seen  at  Hereford  more 
frequently  ;  the  new  squares  and  terraces  were  making  rapid  pro 
gress  ;  and  a  report  now  began  to  prevail  (greatly  to  the  annoy 
ance  of  the  Dean's  relatives)  that  he  was  not  indisposed  to  marry 
for  the  third  time,  if  he  could  induce  one  of  theBarsac  girls  (the 
eldest,  of  course)  to  assist  him  in  so  extraordinary  and  promising 
an  undertaking.  Nobody  gave  this  rumour  so  little  credit  as 
Reuben ;  at  the  same  time,  he  could  not  but  observe  that  his 
grandfather  was  daily  becoming  more  intimate  and  absolute  in  the 
Barsac  family.  He  dictated  their  dinners,  regulated  their  hours, 
selected  their  society,  discountenanced  their  pleasant  evening  par 
ties;  in  fact,  he  appeared  to  be  turning  their  once  agreeable  house 
topsy-turvy."  Reuben's  special  grievance  was,  of  course,  that  he 
was  no  longer  invited  there  himself  as  often  as  before.  It  was 
mostly  by  hearsay  he  was  aware  of  the  unexampled  tyranny 
exercised  by  his  despotic  ancestor  over  the  household  of  a  free- 
born  British  merchant.  He  saw,  however,  quite  enough  to  make 
all  accounts  that  reached  him  only  too  worthy  of  credit.  On 
several  occasions,  for  instance,  he  observed  the  Baisacs  going 
about  shopping,  or  walking  of  an  evening,  with  the  Dean ;  nor 
was  it  to  Mrs.  Barsac  that  the  preposterous  old  dignitary  seemed 
to  be  paying  his  attentions  :  he  preferred  the  daughters  to  the 
mother,  and  generally  had  one  upon  each  arm,  though  once  or 


68  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

twice  it  happened  that  but  one  of  the  girls  was  of  the  party,  and 
this  hard  lot  fell  upon  Blanche.  Reuben  marvelled  that  he  had 
never  heard  her  complain  of  being  forced  to  perambulate  the 
streets  and  precincts  of  Hereford,  with  so  extraordinary  an  escort ; 
but  when  he  recollected  in  what  a  near  relation  the  Dean  stood 
to  himself,  he  admired  the  delicacy  that  dictated  her  reserve. 

The  only  wonder,  indeed,  was  that  the  design  of  the  Dean 
upon  one  of  the  three  sherries  had  not  been  suspected  sooner, 
— he  lived  so  much  and  so  openly  with  the  Barsacs,  and  was  so 
notoriously  connected  in  large  speculations  with  the  f;ither  of  the 
family.  It  soon  became  current  enough.  The  gossips  of  Here 
ford  had  not  had  so  rich  a  subject  of  discussion  for  a  great  many 
years.  It  set  a  great  many  heads  shaking,  tongues  wagging, 
and  eyes  winking  ;  caused  infinite  nodding,  whispering,  tittering, 
giggling ;  and  if  it  did  not  occasion  much  wit,  it  had  certainly  a 
decided"  tendency  to  promote  the  consumption  of  tea.  The  boys 
of  Finchley  shared  in  the  general  excitement ;  and  Reuben  was 
exposed  to  so  much  annoyance  on  the  subject,  particularly  among 
his  school-fellows,  that  he  was  beginning  to  think  his  grandfather 
was  destined  to  be  the  plague  of  his  life,  instead  of  being  a  com 
fort  and  a  blessing  to  him,  as  a  respectable  grandfather  ought  surely 
to  be. 

The  rumour  of  the  Dean's  matrimonial  views  was  treated  at 
the  Vicarage  as  utterly  unworlhy  of  attention  ;  but  Mrs.  Medli- 
cott  was  seriously  displeased  when  she  found  that  Mrs.  Barsac 
was  beginning  to  be  so  neglectful  of  Reuben's  education  for  a 
man  of  the  world.  The  Vicar,  on  the  contrary,  was  gratified  ; 
for  he  thought  the  cricket-ground  became  boys  better  than  the 
ball-room,  and  hoped  Reuben  would  relax  himself  with  a  little 
regular  study,  now  that  he  had  a  good  spell  of  vacation  from 
balls  and  parties.  And  indeed  his  son  was  not  idle  at  this  period, 
although  the  business  of  the  school  was  by-  no  means  sufficient 
to  occupy  the  time  he  now  had  on  his  hands.  He  stood  in  the 
same  rank  in  point  of  scholarship  with  Hyacinth  Primrose;  they 
topped  the  school  in  the  classics  without  the  least  drudgery,  and 
had  ample  leisure  for  a  course  of  the  English  poets,  into  whose 
distinguished  society  Primrose  introduced  Reuben,  who  fcmnd  in 
their  charming  circle  some  little  consolation  for  the  exile  to  which 
he  was  doomed  from  the  sweet  bright  eyes  of  Blanche.  De  Tab- 
ley,  although  his  strongest  tastes  were  for  the  table,  discovered 
some  taste  for  poetry  also  ;  and,  having  ceased  to  sneer  at  Reu 
ben's  accomplishments,  he  was  occasionally  the  companion  of  him 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  69 

and  Primrose  in  their  rambles  on  the  banks  of  the  Wye,  when 
they  repeated  their  favourite  passages  alternately,  and  discussed, 
with  the  rash  criticism  of  boys,  the  beauties  and  the  blemishes  of 
the  poets.  Now  and  then,  in  these  literary  walks,  De  Tabley's 
ruling  passion  would  come  out  amusingly  in  connection  with 
some  sublime  or  sentimental  quotation.  One  day  that  some 
doves  were  heard  plaining  in  a  grove  of  trees  hard  by,  Reuben 
repeated  the  hackneyed  lines  of  Shenstone — 

"  I  have  found  out  a  gift  for  my  fair, 
I  have  found  where  the  wood-pigeons  breed." 

De  Tabley,  after  a  few  minutes'  silence,  diverted  his  friends  ex 
ceedingly  by  gravely  observing  that  he  did  not  much  fancy 
pigeons,  except  in  a  pie.  It  was  a  standingjpke  against  him  with 
Primrose  all  his  life. 

The  tender  verses  of  Shenstone,  and  amorous  and  elegiac  verse 
generally,  pleased  Reuben  most  in  these  early  days.  He  Lad 
Prior's  "  Henry  and  Emma,"  no  ahort  poem  of  this  class,  3vei  / 
line  by  heart,  and  probably  often  wished  the  heroine  had  bjta  i 
blonde  like  Blanche,  instead  of  a  brunette  like  her  sisttar. 

But  the  time  came  when  Primrose  xollowed  Wimrig  ^o  j)( 
lege.  De  Tabley  left  school  about  the  same  time.  Reubeu  -vas 
virtually  left  alone,  for  his  only  remaining  friend  was  Vigors '.  but 
Vigors  had  no  more  poetry  in  him  than  a  .Master  in  Chancery  ; 
his  heart  and  soul  were  in  gymnastic  exercises ;  he  w«.o  a  good 
fellow  and  a  good  boxer,  but  no  companion  ;br  an  intellectual  and 
sentimental  youth  like  Medlicott.  This  was  a  dreary,  melancholy 
time.  The  golden  days  of  our  youth  have  many  a  leaden  hour. 
Reuben,  in  fact,  ought  to  have  been  removed  from  Hereford  along 
with  his  friends  whom  he  had  kept  pace  with  in  his  studies. 
The  Barsacs  were  not  designedly  inattentive  to  him,  but  they  had 
not  recovered  their  hospitable  habits.  Even  when  the  Dean  was 
absent  they  lived  in  the  quietest  way.  Barsac  himself  was  said 
to  be  in  London  much  of  his  time,  and  his  wife  and  daughters 
were  frequently  from  home  whole  weeks  together  on  excursions 
or  visits.  Our  poor  Reuben  had  but  two  resources — the  library 
of  the  Cathedral,  where  he  moped  a  great  deal  among  the  eld 
books,  and  his  flageolet,  which  he  continued  to  practise  with  the 
French  shoemaker  occasionally. 

Suddenly,  however,  he  was  deprived  of  this  resource  also, 
though  fortune  soon  made  him  handsome  amends. 

Dropping  into  Adolphe's  little  shop  one  evening,  he  observed 


70  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

a  pink  satin  shoe  lying  on  the  counter,  and  taking  it  up  he  com 
plimented  the  maker  on  its  shape  and  workmanship. 

"  Ah  !"  cried  Adolphe,  "  that  is  beautiful ;  but  do  n<  t  admire 
the  shoe,  although  it  is  my  chef  d1  ceuvre — that  is  nothing ;  ad 
mire  the  foot,  it'is  the  foot  that  is  beautiful :  it  is  the  foot  of  a 
lady  of  your  connaissance,  Mademoiselle  Blanche  Barsac." 

Reuben  acknowledged  that  he  knew  her,  with  a  degree  of  con 
fusion  and  a  quantity  of  carmine  that  would  have  disclosed  the 
foolish  state  of  his  mind,  had  Adolphe  been  the  obtusest  of  hu 
man  beings. 

"  Ah  !  out ;  you  know  the  foot  itself.  I  am  a  judge  of  leet ; 
it  is  my  profession  ;  there  is  no  foot  so  beautiful  as  hers  in  this 
town  ;  it  is  perfection.  I  have  a  theory  on  feet,  Monsieur  Reuben : 
when  the  foot  is  pretty  all  is  pretty.  I  reason  from  the  foot  up, 
up,  up  to  the  crown  of  the  head :  it  is  my  philosophy  of  feet ;  I 
have  studied,  I  have  approfandi  this  subject.  In  the  foot  there 
is  character,  esprit,  talent,  heart,  soul,  genius,  everything.  When 
it  walks,  it  is  eloquence ;  when  it  dances  it  is  poetry ;  when  it 
stamps  it  is  power.  What  do  you  think  of  my  theory  ?  Ah,  that 
foot  is  the  foot  of  an  angel !" 

A  few  days  elapsed.  Reuben  heard  a  rumour  in  the  school 
that,  notwithstanding  the  custom  it  afforded  Adolphe,  he  was 
not  very  flourishing  in  his  trade,  or  likely  long  to  find  Hereford 
an  eligible  place  for  carrying  it  on.  With  a  generous  instinct 
Reuben  flew  to  him  directly  this  report  reached  his  ears,  resolv 
ing  to  raise  money  to  assist  him,  either  by  the  sale  of  his  super 
fluous  books,  or  the  mortgage  of  his  flageolet,  for  other  sources 
of  wealth  were  not  very  abundant  with  him.  But  it  was  too 
late ;  the  little  shop  was  shut  up.  Reuben  knocked  repeatedly, 
but  there  was  no  reply  save  the  hollow  echo  of  the  sound  he 
made  with  his  knuckles,  and  when  he  applied  at  the  cutler's, 
next  door,  for  an  explanation  of  these  facts,  he  heard  quite 
enough  to  satisfy  anybody,  whose  mind  had  not  been  completely 
prepossessed  with  admiration  and  sympathy,  that  the  French 
shoemaker  had  not  been  particularly  attentive  to  his  landlord's 
interests  before  he  made  up  his  mind  to  abandon  Hereford. 

Reuben  went  his  way  melancholy,  his  thoughts  full  of  the 
poetry  of  bankruptcy;  and,  connecting  the  misfortunes  of  Adolphe 
with  his  talents  and  accomplishments — his  genius  shewn  even  in 
his  humble  trade,  his  philosophy  of  feet  asd  his  sister  Louise — he 
formed  a  most  romantic  picture  in  his  mind  of  the  st  uggles  aud 
calamities  of  an  ambitious  French  shoemaker. 


OK,  THE   COMING   MAN.  71 

The  next  day  was  a  holiday ;  I  think  it  was  the  martyrdom 
of  Charles  the  First.  While  the  rest  of  the  scholars  amused 
themselves  with  the  soaring  kite,  the  bounding  ball,  or  the  roll 
ing  marbles,  Reuben  recreated  himself  with  his  pen,  collecting  all 
the  cases  and  anecdotes  he  could  find  of  laureate  shoemakers  and 
cobblers  of  immortal  genius,  such  as  Bunyan,  Gifford,  Hans  Sachs, 
u  the  cobler-bard "  of  Nuremberg,  and  others,  ending  with  a 
sketch  of  his  friend  Adolphe,  whom  his  enthusiasm  placed  in  the 
same  memorable  class.  The  poor  artist's  mysterious  fate  gave  a 
melancholy  interest  to  this  part  of  the  essay,  and  Reuben  ended 
his  speculations  with  suggesting  suicide  by"  charcoal,  under  most 
poetical  circumstances,  as  the  too  probable  close  of  his  career. 

The  simple  truth  was,  that  Adolphe  had  not  prospered  in  his 
trade  because  he  did  not  mind  his  business.  He  was  too  fond 
of  talking,  theorising,  and  playing  the  flageolet.  The  very  shoes 
upon  which  he  had  built  his  philosophy  of  feet  had  been  returned 
to  him  by  Miss  Barsac  as  a  misfit.  In  point  of  probity,  how 
ever,  he  was  not  more  unjust  to  his  landlord  than  he  had  been 
to  himself,  for  he  absconded  without  taking  the  trouble  of  col 
lecting  a  number  of  small  sums  that  were  due  to  him.  Mrs. 
Barsac,  among  others,  owed  him  some  money,  and,  thinking  that 
Reuben  might  be  able  to  inform  her  what  had  become  of  him, 
she  wrote  him  a  note  requesting  to  see  him  one  morning. 

Wings  could  scarcely  have  borne  him  swifter  than  he  flew  in 
obedience  to  this  summons.  The  nature  of  Mrs.  Barsac's  busi 
ness  with  him  was  a  sad  disappointment,  but  that  was  forgotten 
before  he  left  the  house.  Mrs.  Barsac  was  particularly  gracious, 
told  him  that  his  grandfather  was  to  preach  in  the  Cathedral  the 
following  Sunday,  and  offered  him  a  seat  in  her  pew,  if  he  de 
sired  to  hear  him. 


CHAPTER  VIL 

BETTBEN   SPENDS   A   MEMORABLE   SUNDAY    WITH   HIS   GHANDFATHER, 
AKD  ALL  THE   BARS  ACS. 

THE  Barsacs,  who  were  what  is  commonly  called  a  fine  family, 
never  looked  so  fine  as  when  they  were  assembled  together  in 
their  spacious  and  prominent  pew  on  a  Sunday  morning.  The 
epectators  had  then  an  opportunity  of  seeing  several  junior  mem- 


72  THE    UNIVERSAL    GEMUS  j 

bers  of  the  firm,  -whom  he  did  not  commonly  see  at  their  parties, 
except  when  a  juvenile  ball  was  given,  or  round  about  a  Christ 
mas  tree,  dropping  bon-bons.  Though  their  pew  .was  the  larg 
est  in  the  church,  it  was  not  more  room)  than  they  required. 
particularly  as  the  ladies  occupied  much  more  space  with  their 
spreading  silks  and  muslins  than  their  mere  persons  required.  As 
to  Mrs.  Barsac  and  her  eldest  daughter,  they  took  up  room  enough 
for  four  reasonable  women.  Perhaps  it  was  to  do  due  honour 
to  Dean  Wyndham's  discourse  that  they  were  attired  with  more 
than  usual  splendour  upon  the  present  occasion,  but  certainly  poor 
slender  Reuben,  whose  lot  it  was  to  get  wedged  in  between  them, 
almost  disappeared  between  the  gorgeous  shawls,  floating  veils,  and 
pompous  petticoats,  that  hemmed  him  in  'ipon  either  side.  Mrs. 
Barsac  vouchsafed  him  some  attention,  an  1  ;x~endel  h-r  superb 
prayer-book  now  and  then  ^o  accommodate  him,  bu  er  daughter 
seemed  unconscious  of  his  proximity,  arranging  "i  r  ;lress  when  she 
sat  down,  without  the  slightest  reference  to  his  existence,  and  when 
she  stood  up,  eclipsing  him  altogether.  Opposite  to  him  sat  the 
fair  Blanche  and  her  brown  sister,  divided  n)y  their  purse-proud 
and  pompous  father,  dressed  in  a  light  blue  frock,  .vith  a  forest  of 
geraniums  in  his  button-hole.  It  was  a  goodly  oight  to  see  Bar- 
sac  at  his  devotions ;  he  performed  them  in  such  an  exemplary,* 
determined,  imposing  manner ;  so  loud  in  his  share  of  the  re 
sponses,  that  the  services  of  a  clerk  might  have  been  lispensed 
with  in  whatever  parish  he  resided,  and  ostentatiously  observant 
of  every  little  ceremony  and  genuflexion  which  usige  ~>r  the 
rubric  required.  The  grandest  thing  of  all  was  is  '  o'.v  at  a  cer 
tain  passage  in  the  creed.  Mr.  Barsac  always  prepared  himself 
for  this  solemn  act  by  a  previous  arrangement  of  his  Countenance 
and  disposition  of  his  person  ;  he  drew  himself  up  to  his  full 
height,  threw  back  the  breast  of  his  coat  with  the  enormous 
bouquet,  and  bowed  in  the  manner  of  a  man  who  seemed  to 
feel  that  he  was  conferring  an  honour  upon  the  Christian 
religion,  rather  than  humbly  expressing  his  reverence  for  its 
truths. 

But  even  Barsac  sank  into  insignificance,  when  the  principal 
actor  of  the  day,  the  mighty  Dean,  marched  from  his  stall  to  the 
pulpit,  preceded  by  the  officious  verger,  perspiring  under  the 
weight  of  a  huge  silver  mace.  If  Dr.  Wyndham  was  a  giant  in 
his  ordinary  clothes,  you  may  fancy  what  a  man-mountain  he 
was  in  his  canonical  raiment.  It  needed  no  great  effort  of  fancy 
to  conceive  that  there  was  not  only  a  dean  but  a  whole  chapter 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  73 

beneath  a  surplice  which  might  certainly  have  made  a  set  of 
shirts  for  the  entire  corporation,  down  to  the  minor  canons. 

This  huge  body  of  divinity  had  no  sooner  mounted  the  pulpit 
than  Mrs.  Barsac  requested  Reuben  to  change  places  with 
Blanche,  in  order  that  she  might  have  a  better  view  of  the 
preacher.  Barsac  made  a  like  exchange  with  two  of  his  younger 
children,  and  similar  movements  took  place  all  over  the  cathe 
dral,  proving  the  great  interest  excited  by  the  expectation  of  a 
sermon  from  a  theologian  of  such  renown.  Reuben  would  have 
willingly  made  a  much  greater  sacrifice  for  the  gratification  or 
convenience  of  Blanche,  but,  in  fact,  although  it  would  have 
pleased  him  to  see  as  well  as  hear  his  grandfather  preaching,  he 
was  glad  to  emerge  from  the  ladies'  dresses,  and  by  the  new  ar 
rangement  he  had  Blanche  opposite  to  him  still,  which  was  a 
very  fair  compensation  for  the  face  of  old  Dr.  Wyndham.  A  pin 
might  have  been  heard  to  drop  as  the  Dean  in  his  loud,  dry, 
grating  voice  gave  out  his  text,  and  commenced  his  discourse, 
which  was,  in  fact,  a  pamphlet  more  than  a  sermon,  consisting 
of  an  undoubtedly  eloquent,  but  unnecessarily  violent,  denuncia 
tion  of  the  doctrine  of  political  expediency,  the  fiercest  anathemas 
against  the  statesmen  of  the  day,  who  were  supposed  to  be  gov 
erned  by  it,  and  tremendous  warnings  to  the  nation  to  beware 
of  permitting  the  corner-stone  of  its  Protestant  constitution  to  be 
removed  a  single  inch  from  its  place,  out  of  any  false  complai 
sance  to  Romish  errors  or  sophistical  ideas  of  toleration.  The 
only  change  the  Dean's  harsh,  monotonous  voice  underwent,  was 
when  he  came  to  utter  these  awful  comminations,  when  it  fell 
into  a  kind  of  hoarse  growl,  like  that  of  a  bear  apprehensive  of  a 
design  against  her  cubs,  or  a  mastiff  prepared  to  defend  his  bone. 
Many  parts  of  the  sermon  were  ably  and  acutely  reasoned,  sup 
porting  the  Dean's  reputation  thoroughly;  but  the  contrast  of 
argument,  sometimes  as  fine  as  Mechlin  lace,  with  language  often 
as  coarse  as  Norwich  drugget,  was  exceedingly  curious  and  occa 
sionally  almost  diverting.  In  fact  he  kept  his  audience  altern 
ately  admiring  the  force  of  his  positions,  and  scandalised  by  the 
scurrility  of  his  language ;  they  would,  indeed,  have  been  divided 
in  their  judgments  of  the  discourse  upon  the  whole,  had  he  not 
wound  it  all  up  with  a  peroration  upon  the  value  and  dignity 
of  principle,  as  opposed  to  expediency,  so  beautiful,  as  well  as 
vehement,  that  all  the  previous  blemishes  of  his  composition  were 
forgotten,  and  he  dismissed  his  hearers,  not  only  with  the  high 
est  possible  opinion  of  his  ability  in  the  pulpit,  but  with  a  pro- 
4 


74  T  IE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

found  and  consolatory  conviction  that  there  was  at  least  one  man 
in  the  Church  whom  no  temptation  of  wealth  or  rank  could  se 
duce  from  the  path  of  duty.  The.  Barsacs  were  variously  affected 
throughout  the  sermon,  or  rather  expressed  in  a  variety  of  waya 
the  feelings  with  which  it  impressed  them.  Mrs.  Barsac  inti 
mated  by  numerous  little  gestures,  intended  to  be  critical,  some 
times  to  her  husband,  sometimes  to  one  or  other  of  her  daugh 
ters,  that  she  had  never  in  her  life  heard  a  discourse  that  so  en 
tranced  her.  Barsac  kept  nodding  at  the  preacher  at  the  close 
of  every  passage,  to  testify  his  approbation  of  every  syllable. 
Miss  Barsae  looked  particularly  cross,  which  was  perhaps  a  mood 
rather  in  unison  with  the  general  tone  of  the  Dean's  observations. 
The  brunette  paid  the  usual  respectful  attention,  but  nothing 
more ;  in  fact  she  was  not  much  of  a  theologian,  and  nothing  of 
a  politician  at  all ;  very  few  brunettes  are,  and  not  many  blondes 
either.  Blanche  seemed  to  be  an  exception,  for  she  kept  her 
deep,  quiet,  devout  eyes  rivetted  on  the  pulpit  from  first  to  last, 
never  suffering  them  to  wander  to  any  object  nearer  the  earth, 
not  even  once  upon  Reuben,  who  sat  directly  over  against  her, 
marvelling  at  her  intense  interest  in  subjects  which  had  but  little 
interest  for  himself,  and  of  which  he  had  indeed  at  that  period 
but  very  imperfect  and  confused  notions. 

After  the  service,  as  they  stood  in  a  group  at  one  of  the  doors, 
waiting  for  the  Dean,  who  had  some  ecclesiastical  business  to 
transact  and  to  disencumber  himself  of  his  robes, 'when  every 
body  had  said  everything  that  was  to  be  said  in  admiration  of 
the  sermon,  Mr.  Barsac  said  something  aside  to  Mrs.  Barsac,  who 
immediately  addressed  Reuben,  and  made  him  as  happy  as  a 
king  by  inviting  him  to  their  family  dinner. 

They  still  waited  for  the  Dean ;  not  impatiently,  however, 
for  he  was  a  man  whom  the  Barsacs  considered  it  an  honour  to 
dance  attendance  on,  which  was  fortunate,  as  he  was  not  likely  to 
hurry  himself  upon  their  account.  There  was  no  carriage  wait 
ing  for  them,  for  it  was  a  rule  with  the  Barsacs  to  walk  to  church 
when  the  weather  was  propitious.  The  distance  was  nothing, 
and  they  managed  to  go  to  church  on  foot  with  as  much  parade 
and  ostentation,  as  if  they  had  gone  in  a  coach-and-six. 

At  length  the  Dean  joined  them ;  he  instantly  seized  Mrs. 
Barsac's  arm,  and  commenced  walking  at  his  usual  great  pace, 
taking  no  more  notice  of  Reuben  than  of  the  sparrows  that  were 
hopping  in  the  streets.  Barsac  and  his  daughter  Blanche  fell 
into  the  second  line,  followed  by  the  rest  of  the  party  in  open 


OBj  THE   COMING   MAN*.  75 

order,  Reuben  not  very  well  knowing  to  which  division  to  attach 
himself,  but  keeping  «s  near  Blanche  as  he  possibly  could.  Mrs. 
Barsac  would  have  said  twenty  handsome  things  of  the  sermon, 
if  the  Dean  had  allowed  her  to  speak  at  all,  but  he  knew  per 
fectly  well  what  she  had  got  to  say,  so  tliat  his  vanity  was  no 
loser;  and  having  just  as  little  doubt  on  his  mind  that  Barsac 
was  heaping  on  incense  as  fast  he  could  behind  his  back,  he  gave 
himself  just  as  little  trouble  to  catch  the  precise  words  in  which 
the  consequential  merchant  was  expressing  his  sentiments. 

"  It  is  commonly  remarked,"  said  the  Dean,  after  he  had  said 
more  than  enough  in  commendation  of  his  own  discourse,  "  that 
an  author  is  not  the  best  judge  of  his  own  compositions  ;  I  don't 
know  how  it  may  be  with  other  men,  but  the  remark  does  not 
hold  in  my  case.  I  was  never  yet  wrong  in  my  opinion  of  any 
work  of  my  own.  When  I  write  a  good  book,  or  compose  a 
good  sermon,  I  know  it ;  when  I  write  a  bad  thing,  or  a  weak 
thing,  I  know  it  also.  No  critic  can  criticise  me  better  than  1  can 
criticise  myself.  No  living  author  has  been  the  subject  of  such 
ridiculous  criticism  as  I  have.  My  best  works  have  been  abused 
by  the  reviewers,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  there  are  some  of  those 
fellows  always  ready  to  tell  the  public  that  any  trash  bearing  my 
name  is  worthy  of  being  written  in  cuneiform  characters  on 
pyramids." 

"I  believe,  sir,"  said  Barsac,  "you%ave  written  very  little,  if 
anything,  that  is  not." 

• "  I    have  written  trash  in  my  time,"  said  the  Dean,  "  like 

other  men ;  not  so  much,  perhaps,  as ,  or ,  or  my 

Ltrd  Bishop  of ,  but  I  have  written  trash  in  my  time,  as 

arrant  trash  as  ever  was  printed." 

"  What  you  call  trash,  Dean,  would  make  the  character  and 
the  fortune  of  any  other  man  in  the  Church  !" 

"  Perhaps  you  are  not  very  wrong  in  that,"  said  the  Dean  ; 
"I  know  very  well  there's  a  difference  between  my  trash  and 
other  men's  trash.  What  is  your  dinner  hour  ?" 

"Five,  sir,  on  Sundays,"  replied  Mrs.  Barsac,  blandly  and 
obsequiously,  to  this  abrupt  question. 

"  Why  five  ?"  demanded  the  Dean. 

"Dinner  shall  be  at  any  hour  you  please,  Dean,"  cried  Barsac, 
who  was  even  more  supple  than  his  wife.  "  W'ould  you  prefer 
eix,  or  shall  we  say  seven  ?" 

"  As  you  have  named  five  to  your  company,  let  it  be  five," 
answered  the  Dean ;  "  don't  consider  me  in  your  domestic  ar- 


76  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

rangements.     Never  change  your  hour  to  please  anybody.     It's 
unfair  to  your  cook,  and  it's  unjust  to  your  company." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say,"  said  Barsac  nervously,  "  we  have  no 
company  to  meet  you  to-day,  sir,  only  our  own  family,  with  the 
exception  of  our  young  friend  here,  and,  possibly,  my  brother- 
in-law,  Mr.  Brough." 

"Where  was  Brough  to-day? — where  was  your  master?" 
demanded  the  Dean,  turning  sharply  round  upon  Reuben,  whom 
he  now  honoured  with  his  notice  for  the  first  time.  Nothing 
was  more  usual  with  Dr.  Wyndham  than  to  put  a  question  like 
this,  and  instantly  change  the  conversation,  without  caring,  or 
seeming  to  care,  whether  it  was  answered  or  not.  While  Reuben 
was  endeavouring  to  explain  or  excuse  the  absence  of  his  school 
master,  by  btuting  that  it  was  not  the  custom  of  the  school  to  at 
tend  divine  service  at  the  cathedral,  the  Dean  was  proposing  a 
visit  to  the  buildings  in  which  lie  and  Mr.  Barsac  were  concerned, 
by  way  of  filling  up  the  interval  between  luncheon  and  dinner. 
The  walk  was  too  much  for  Mrs.  Barsac  and  her  eldest  daughter. 
The  rest  of  the  party,  however,  as  soon  as  luncheon  was  over, 
sallied  forth  again,  and  had  not  proceeded  far  before  they  were 
joined  by  the  glossy  Mr.  Brough,  who  approached  the  Dean 
with  something  almost  servile  in  his  manner.  The  Dean,  who 
had  now  taken  Blanche  under  his  arm,  never  looked  at  him,  or, 
rather,  he  looked  through  him,  as  if  he  had  been  a  ghost.  This 
was  to  punish  Mr.  Brough  for  not  having  been  at  the  cathedral 
to  hear  his  sermon,  and  it  evidently  did  punish  him,  for  he  was 
visibly  abashed,  and  tailing  into  the  rear,  began  to  converse  in  a 
very  subdued  tone  with  Barsac,  who  increased  his  brother-in-law's 
confusion  by  telling  him  aloud  all  he  had  lost,  and  assuring  him 
that  the  loss  was  totally  irreparable,  as  it  was  out  of  all  human 
probability  that  so  splendid  a  specimen  of  pulpit  eloquence  would 
ever  again  be  heard  in  England. 

Possibly  the  Dean  did  not  hear  this  flourishing  speech  of  the 
merchant,  although  it  was  intended  that  he  should,  for  he  was 
now  mounted  on  one  of  his  favourite  hobbies,  and  talking  at  a 
prodigious  rate  of  granite  and  limestone,  the  timber  of  different 
countries,  and  building  materials  of  every  kind.  He  seemed  to 
Reuben  to  be  boring  Blanche  excessively.  They  were  now  arrived 
at  Wyndham  Terrace,  which  was  in  a  state  of  considerable  for 
wardness.  The  square,  not  yet  named,  was  adjacent  to  it.  The 
ground  was  laid  out,  the  foundations  of  the  houses  laid,  but  only 
one  house  had  been  erected,  and  even  that  was  little  more  than 


On,  THE  COMING  MAN.  77 

a  skeleton  of  wood  and  brick.  The  ground  all  round  about  was 
strewed  over  with  blocks  of  stone,  piles  of  bricks,  timber,  iron 
railings,  and  a  thousand  other  things  of  the  same  kind ;  but  none 
of  these  obstructions  impeded  the  Dean's  progress ;  he  strode  over 
and  through  them  all,  making  Blanche  follow,  or  rather  pulling 
her  along  after  him,  without  the  least  consideration  either  for  her 
shoes  or  her  ankles,  the  latter  of  which  were  really  now  and  then, 
in  danger  from  the  spikes  of  the  railings,  and  the  points  of  pick 
axes.  Reuben  was  very  angry,  but  could  do  nothing'to  help  her, 
though  he  showed  by  his  looks  amusingly  enough  how  eager  he 
was  to  do  so.  But  Blanche  herself  was  very  good-humoured 
about  it,  and  so  was  her  sister  the  brunette,  who  was  compelled 
to  traverse  every  inch  of  the  same  rough  ground  in  company  with 
her  father  and  uncle,  whose  complaisance  to  the  Dean  would  have 
supported  them  through  much  more  dirt  and  many  more  difficul 
ties  than  they  actually  had  to  go  through.  Their  trials,  however, 
were  only  commenced,  for  as  soon  as  Dr.  Wyndham  reached  the 
house  which  was  in  a  comparatively  advanced  state,  he  insisted 
on  the  merchant  and  the  schoolmaster  accompanying  him  through 
it  from  top  to  bottom,  a  journey  which  was  one  of  not  a  little 
hazard,  as  a  great  deal  of  it  had  to  be  performed  along  rafters 
over  which  the  flooring  was  not  complete,  and  up  and  down  in 
clined  planes  formed  of  loose  boards,  which  at  present  represent 
ed  the  staircases.  The  Dean's  activity  was  surprising ;  none  of 
the  masons  or  carpenters  could  have  done  what  he  did  with  more 
self-possession,  and  he  never  ceased  talking  the  whole  time,  alter 
nately  lecturing  upon  the  principles  of  ventilation  and  sewerage, 
and  ridiculing  Barsac  and  Mr.  Brough,  who  were  scrambling  re 
luctantly  after  him,  with  imminent  risk  to  their  limbs  at  every 
step.  When,  at  length,  this  perilous  survey  was  over,  it  was  di 
verting  to  observe  the  annoyance  of  both  at  the  state  in  which 
their  clothes  were  with  the  mortar,  dust,  and  whitewash ;  Mr. 
Brough  was  in  the  worst  pickle,  for  he  was  the  awkwardest  climb 
er,  and  besides  he  was  dressed,  as  usual,  in  a  complete  suit  of  the 
newest  and  glossiest  black,  looking  as  if  he  had  been  polished  all 
over  with  Day  and  Martin.  Reuben  goodnaturedly  assisted  in 
restoring  his  preceptor  to  his  original  lustre,  and  Blanche  per 
formed  the  same  little  service  for  the  Dean  when  he  came  forth, 
but  he  had  suffered  much  less  than  the  others,  because  he  had 
been  so  much  more  agile. 

He  now  seated  himself  on  a  square  block  of  Portland  stone, 
and  the  rest  followed  his  example,  some  sitting  on  other  blocks, 


78  TFTF,    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

Mr.  Brough  on  an  inverted  wheelbarrow,  which  he  first  carefully 
dusted  with  his  handkerchief. 

"  This  will  be  the  finest  square  in  England,"  said  the  Dean, 
"  when  it  is  finished." 

"  That  it  will,  sir,"  said  Barsac. 

"  That  it  certainly  will,"  said  Mr.  Brough. 

"Of  course  I  don't  include  London,"  said  the  Dean. 

"Of  course  not,"  said  Barsac  and  his  brother-in-law  to 
gether. 

"  Barsac,"  said  the  Dean,  "  this  square  was  my  idea,  not 
yours." 

"  For  which  reason,"  said  the  merchant,  "  it  must  be  called 
after  you,  sir." 

"  No,"  said  the  Dean ;  "  and  to  prevent  any  more  argument 
on  that  point,  I  now  christen  it  Barsac  Square,  and  we  must  con 
sider  how  to  adorn  the  centre  of  it.  What  is  your  opinion  ?" 
This  was  addressed  to  Blanche,  who  sat  on  the  next  block  to 
him. 

"  A  fountain,  sir,  would  be  pretty,"  she  replied. 

"  Fountains  are  very  well  in  some  climates,"  said  the  Dean, 
"but  the  skies  of  ours  afford  us  water  enough  without  artificial 
supplies." 

"A  just  and  happy  observation,"  said  the  schoolmaster  on 
the  wheelbarrow,  in  a  timid  tone,  but  hoping  to  be  heard  by  the 
object  of  his  slavish  veneration. 

"  The  square,  sir,  was  your  idea,"  said  Barsac,  "  and  therefore 
I  don't  think  any  thing  would  be  so  appropriate,  if  I  might  ven 
ture  to  offer  a  suggestion,  as  a  statue  of  the  Very  Reverend  Dean 
Wyndham." 

"  Colossal,"  added  Mr.  Brough  as  before. 

"  Mr.  Brough,"  said  the  Dean  abruptly,  now  that  the  school 
master  had  forced  himself  on  his  notice,  "  you  were  not  at  church 
to-day.  That  was  wrong,  Mr.  Brough  ;  doubly  wrong,  for  as  an 
individual,  you  neglected '  the  duty  of  attending  divine  service, 
and,  as  a  preceptor,  you  set  an  example  of  the  same  neglect  to 
your  scholars ;  you,  of  all  men,  are  bound  to  be  scrupulous  in 
these  matters;  you  are  in  loco  parentis  •  you  should  not  only 
have  been  present  yourself,  but  you  should  have  come  at  the 
head  of  all  your  pupils  and  assistants.  You  must  not  be  of 
fended  with  me  for  speaking  to  you  plainly  on  a  subject  so  im 
portant.  I  hope  and  trust  you  do  not  make  a  practice  of  turn 
ing  your  back  upon  the  Church." 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN.  79 

Mr.  Brought  was  in  the  greatest  state  of  excitement  during 
this  speech,  wriggling  on  the  wheelbarrow  as  if  he  was  frying, 
and  every  moment  jumping  up  and  endeavouring,  but  all  in 
vain,  to  get  in  a  single  word ;  for  a  single  word  would  have 
shown  the  Dean  that  his  accusation  was  most  unjust,  and  his 
lecture  most  uncalled-for.  The  Dean's  loud,  fluent,  and  com 
manding  mode  of  speaking  overbore  all  attempts  at  interruption, 
so  that  the  pedagogue  was  exactly  in  the  same  predicament  in 
which  he  had  formerly  put  Reuben,  by  harranguing  him  on  in 
temperance  at  the  ball,  while  the  poor  fellow  was  actually  sup- 
perless.  And  when  at  last  the  Dean  came  to  a  pause,  and  Mr. 
Brough  was  allowed  to  defend  himself,  the  former  made  him 
very  slight  amends  for  the  wrong  he  had  done  him. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it,"  he  said,  in  the  driest  way,  as 
again  he  took  Blanche  under  his  mighty  wing,  and  announced 
that  it  was  time  to  return  to  dinner. 

At  dinner  Reuben  sat  next  to  Blanche,  but  his  grandfather 
sat  on  the  other  side,  and,  as  usual,  kept  the  conversation  exclu 
sively  to  himself.  When  at  the  second  course  Mrs.  Barsac  re 
commended  some  dish  to  Reuben,  the  Dean  said  she  was  cock 
ering  him  too  much ;  when  he  was  a  boy  he  never  had  such 
delicacies. 

Mr.  Barsac  shortly  after  asked  Reuben  to  take  wine. 

"  Wine  too !  what  does  a  schoolboy  want  with  wine?" 

"One  glass  of  sherry,  Dean,  will  do  no  harm.-  Pale  or  brown, 
Master  Mediicott?" 

Reuben  was  crimson ;  he  fancied  it  was  an  indirect  way  Mr. 
Barsac 'took  to  discover  which  of  his  daughters  he  preferred.  In 
his  confusion,  however,  he  made  the  wrong  answer,  and  said 
brown,  when  he  meant  pale.  This  utterly  discomforted  him, 
and  he  sat  silent  and  abashed  the  rest  of  the  dinner. 

Barsac  was  carving  a  duck.  The  Dean  told  him  he  knew 
nothing  of  can-ing  fowl ;  that  few  people  did  but  himself,  and 
ordered  a  servant  to  bring  the  dish  to  him.  He  certainly  carved 
better  than  Barsac,  as  far  as  it  depended  on  strength ;  but  he 
lopped  the  wings  and  legs  from  the  duck  with  so  much  energy, ' 
that  he  sprinkled  Blanche's  dress  all  over  with  gravy.  Blanche 
bore  it  with  great  equanimity,  but  Reuben  was  very  much  in 
censed,  and  again  had  occasion  to  admire  the  delicacy  with  which 
.ihe  refrained  from  appearing  annoyed  by  any  part  of  his  grand 
father's  behaviour. 

When  the  ladies  had  retired,  Reuben  did  not  wait  for  one  of 


80  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENII  S  | 

his  grand  father's  hints,  but  followed  them  vciy  soon.  He  was 
now  compensated  for  his  annoyances  at  dinner,  and  had  more 
discourse  with  Blanche  than  he  had  ever  yet  had  an  opportunity 
of  enjoying.  Mrs.  Barsac  and  her  other  daughters  were  present, 
but  they  were  reading,  and  took  little  part  in  the  conversation. 
After  some  time  Blanche  fixed  her  earnest  eyes  on  Reuben,  and 
smiling  said  she  had  a  great  favor  to  ask  him  ;  but  she  hoped  he 
would  not  hesitate  to  refuse  her  if  she  was  going  to  trespass 
upon  him  too  much. 

"  I  know  so  well  what  Blanche  is  going  to  say,"  said  one  of 
her  sisters  aside  to  the  other,  looking  up  from  her  book. 

"  So  do  I,"  said  Mrs.  Barsac,  also  aside. 

How  Reuben  was  agitated  at  the  thought  of  Blanche  asking 
him  to  do  her  a,  favour !  What  would  he  not  do  for  those  per 
suasive  eyes  ? 

The  favour  was  this, — to  sit  for  his  picture.  Blanche,  as  we 
have  already  mentioned,  was  an  amateur  portrait  painter ;  she 
took  pretty  good  likenesses  in  water-colors,  and  when  a  face 
particularly  pleased  her,  she  felt  an  irresistible  inclination  to 
reproduce  its  features  with  her  pencil. 

"  Now  you  must  be  very  candid  with  me,"  she  repeated,  look 
ing  intently  into  the  face  of  the  handsome  bashful  boy,  studying 
its  lines  and  favours  with  the  license  of  an  artist,  to  whom  beauty 
is  only  a  theory. 

"  Blanche,"  said  Mrs.  Barsac,  beckoning  to  her  daughter. 

Blanche  went  to  her  mother. 

"  Are  you  sure,  my  dear,  the  Dean  will  be  pleased  ?  I  very 
much  question  it." 

Reuben  only  imperfectly  caught  what  was  said.  Blanche  re 
turned  to  him  with  a  thoughtful  expression,  and,  after  sitting  si 
lent  for  a  moment,  with  the  tip  of  her  finger,  to  her  lips,  she  sud 
denly  brightened  again,  and  said,  with  the  air  of  a  woman  set 
tling  a  point  which  she  has  authority  to  settle — 

"  The  Dean  shall  know  nothing  at  all  about  it." 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  Mr.  Medlicott  to  sit  for  you,"  said  Mrs. 
Barsac ;  "  I  hope  he  has  not  promised  out  of  mere  politeness." 

Blanche  had  no  doubt  that  Reuben  was  dealing  sincerely 
with  her ;  and  as  to  Reuben  himself,  his  protestations  to  the 
same  effect  were  amusingly  eager.  In  fact  he  was  delirious  with 
joy,  which  nothing  happened  to  interrupt  for  the  remainder  of 
the  evening. 


OK,  THE   COMING   MAN.  81 


CHAPTER  VIE. 

EETTBEN    SITS  TO    A    FAIE  ARTIST   FOE    HIS    PICTURE. — WHO    INTER- 
BXTPTED   THE   SITTINGS. 

THE  first  sitting  took  place  the  very  next  day.  There  cannot  be 
a  more  delicate  or  perilous  situation, — one  trembles  to  think  of 
it.  Boyhood  sitting  to  Beauty  for  his  picture !  The  proximity, 
the  artistic  licence  we  spoke  of  just  now,  the  opportunities  of  con 
versing  both  with  the  lips  and  the  eyes,  the  necessity  the  fair 
pniuter  is  under  of  continually  settling  and  resettling  her  patient's 
attitude  and  position,  often  the  tie  of  his  handkerchief,  the  fall 
of  his  collar,  or  the  arrangement  of  his  hair ;  all  these,  and 
twenty  more  little  circumstances  and  incidents  of  amateur  portrait- 
painting,  have  a  manifest  tendency  to  promote  that  relative  state 
of  the  sentiments  and  feelings,  which  possibly  may  yet  be  brought 
under  the  dominion  of  science,  and  proved  to  be  nothing  more 
than  an  invisible  play  of  some  species  of  galvanic  fluid,  between 
a  pair  of  hearts  under  certain  conditions  of  Paphian  electricity. 

Of  the  two,  however,  Blanche  was  the  most  practical  and 
business-like  upon  an  occasion  when  the  temptations  to  be  senti 
mental  are  so  very  numerous.  Nothing  could  be  cooler  or  more 
professional  than  the  liberties  she  took  with  Reuben  to  place  him 
in  the  proper  light,  to  dispose  his  draperies  for  picturesque  effect, 
and  establish  that  sort  of  animated  repose  and  speaking  silence 
in  his  features,  which  she  hoped  to  succeed  in  transferring  to  the 
carton  before  her.  The  subject  himself  was  all  in  a  tumult  dur 
ing  the  preliminaries,  which  the  artist  arranged  without  the  slight 
est  flutter  of  the  pulse  or  loss  of  self-possession.  Reuben  often 
wondered  afterwards  how  Blanche  Barsac  made  such  a  good  like 
ness  of  him  as  she  managed  to  do  in  a  few  sittings  ;  so  difficult 
a  task  it  must  have  been  to  catch  the  lines  of  a  face,  the  owner 
of  which  was  all  the  time  in  a  state  of  such  nervous  excitement, 
and  whose  colour  was  for  ever  coming  and  going,  with  a  decided 
tendency,  however,  to  settle  into  a  perpetual  blush. 

Conversation  is  of  enormous  service  on  such  occasions.  Blanche 
never  talked  so  much  as  when  she  was  painting,  and  she  forced 
Reuben  to  talk  too,  asking  him  a  thousand  questions  about  his 
mother,  his  friends,  his  studies,  his  plans,  and  many  a  thing  be 
sides.  They*had  'been  so  long  without  seeing  him  ;  where  had 
he  been  ?  Was  it  his  fault,  or  was  it  theirs  ?  When  had  he 
4* 


82  THE    UNIVERSAL     SENIUS  j 

heard  from  Mr.  Winning  and  his  friend  with  the  pretty  name, 
Mr.  Hyacinth  Primrose,  who  was  always  so  lively  and  entertain 
ing  ?  She  knew  he  had  been  studying  very  hard,  he  was  so 
pale.  Had  he  any  time  for  drawing  ?  Had  he  taken  any  more 
views  of  the  cathedral  ?  And  she  hoped  he  had  not  given  up 
the  pleasant  magazine  of  which  she  had  seen  one  or  two  speci 
mens.  Had  he  been  writing  at  all  lately  ?  He  was  not  long  in 
confessing  his  latest  production,  tho  essay  on  shoemakers  of  ge 
nius,  and  modestly  yielded  to  the  strong  wish  she  expressed  to 
read  it,  though  stipulating  that  nobody  should  see  it  but  her 
self. 

Then  she  went  on  painting  in  silence  for  a  few  minutes,  ex 
amining  the  lines  of  his  countenance  between  the  touches,  as  if 
it  was  but  the  statue  of  a  boy  that  sat  before  her ;  then  suddenly 
she  paused,  and  feared  she  was  detaining  him  too  long,  but  she 
would  soon  release  him. 

He  had  no  wish  to  be  released ;  but  Blanche  had  probably 
other  engagements,  for  she  now  looked  at  her  watch,  rose  has 
tily,  wondered  what  had  become  of  her  sisters,  and  fixing  a  day 
for  the  next  sitting,  terminated  the  present  one  almost  abruptly. 

Reuben  was  extremely  dissatisfied  with  himself  for  his  beha 
viour  upon  this  occasion.  He  had  been  so  sheepish,  so  stupid, 
while  Blanche  had  been  so  agreeable,  so  encouraging,  so  every 
way  charming.  He  determined  to  act  a  more  manly  and  gallant 
part  the  next  time. 

But  the  next  sitting  was  not  a  tete-a-tete  like  the  former. 
The  sisters  were  provokingly  present.  Blanche  was  in  her  walk 
ing-dress,  all  but  her  parasol  and  gloves,  which  lay  on  a  sofa  be 
side  her.  Nothing  could  be  more  uncomfortable ;  and  at  last  in 
bustled  Mrs.  Barsac  herself,  richly  shawled  and  bonneted,  nodded 
to  Reuben,  glanced  at  the  picture,  and  swept  away  Blanche  along 
with  her  so  rapidly,  as  scarcely  to  give  her  time  to  put  up  her 
brushes  and  appoint  a  time  for  the  third  seance.  He  had  brought 
his  essay  with  him,  but  had  no  opportunity  of  placing  it  in  her 
hands  unobserved  by  the  other  members  of  the  family. 

The  third  sitting  was  pleasanter  than  the  second,  though  not 
so  private  as  the  first.  He  presented  her  with  his  MS.  She  was 
now  painting  his  hair. 

"  I  wish,"  she  exclaimed,  "  it  were  not  cropped  so  very  close, 
it  is  so  beautiful ;  it  would  look  so  well  suffered  to  fall  down 
upon  your  shoulders  like  mine  ;"  and  as  she  spoke %e  touched 
her  own  hair,  which  was  light  brown  and  very  bright  and  abun- 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  83 

dant.  The  compliment  and  the  comparison  togethei  damasked 
Reuben's  cheek  very  deeply  indeed.  With  the  slightest  conceiv 
able  smile  upon  her  lip,  Blanche  withdrew  her  eyes  from  him 
and  fixed  them  again  upon  her  work.  After  a  few  touches,  she 
spoke  spun. 

"  Did  you  never  wear  it  long  ?" 

Reuben  now  made  an  effort  to  tell  her  the  tale  of  the  outrage 
which  his  grandfather  had  perpetrated  with  the  scissors  the  day 
before  he  went  to  school.  Blanche  was  evidently  diverted,  though 
she  said  she  could  perfectly  understand  how  provoked  his  mother 
must  Lave  been.  He  must  have  looked  a  positive  fright. 

This  extracted  the  sequel  of  the  tale,  all  about  Mademoiselle 
Louise,  which  Reuben  told  in  so  confused  a  way,  and  with  so 
much  stammering  and  blushing,  that  Blanche  could  not  help 
raising  her  tinger,  shaking  her  head,  looking  mysterious,  and  then 
apologising  for  having  betrayed  him  into  making  her  the  confi- 
drtlte  of  what  was  evidently  a  sentimental  business. 

He  was  seriously  parrying  this  attack,  when  a  maid  entered 
the  room  and  put  a  little  slip  of  paper  into  Blanche's  hand,  which 
seemed  to  have  an  electrical  effect  upon  her.  She  jumped  up, 
hastily  covered  the  unfinished  portrait,  and  was  running  out  of 
her  studio,  without  fixing  a  day  for  Reuben  to  sit  again,  but  he 
followed,  and,  overtaking  her  at  the  door  of  the  drawing-room, 
with  throbbing  nerves  reminded  her  of  what  she  had  probably 
only  forgotten  in  her  hurry.  She  was  forced  to  stop,  and  was 
rapidly  running  over  on  her  fingers  her  engagements  for  the  few 
following  days,  when  the  door  opened  behind  them,  and  forth 
came  Mrs.  Barsac,  her  eldest  daughter,  and  his  grandfather. 

The  Dean  blew  a  terrific  gale  when  he  saw  Reuben,  although 
he  had  not  a  notion  that  he  was  there  for  any  purpose  but  to  pay 
an  idle  morning  visit.  That,  however,  was  enough  to  raise  the 
tempest,  with  the  ideas  he  had  of  schools  and  schoolboys.  He 
scolded  Reuben,  scolded  Mr.  B rough,  and  so  abused  Mrs.  Barsac 
that  she  became  quite  disconcerted,  and  in  her  perplexity  made 
matters  worse  by  assuring  the  Dean  that  his  grandson  was  not 
so  much  to  blame  as  he  seemed  to  be,  and  that  she  would  explain 
every  'thing  presently.  On  hearing  this,  the  Dean  blustered 
again,  puffed  his  cheeks  like  J^olus,  and  after  frowning  like  night 
upon  every  body  in  succession,  but  most  upon  Reuben,  returned 
with  Mrs.  Barsac  into  the  drawing-room.  The  three  girls  re 
mained  foj  a  moment  outside,  the  two  eldest  whispering  and 
laughing  together  in  a  subdued  tone,  while  Blanche,  sincerely 


84  THE    UNIVERSAL 

pitying  Reuben's  humiliation,  shook  his  hand  with  the  utmcet 

food-nature,  and  even  accompanied  him  part  of  the  way  to  the 
all-door. 

The  Dean's  anger  on  trifling  occasions  like  this  was  a  very 
"short  madness"  indeed.  Even  when  he  heard  from  Mrs.  Barsac 
how  Reuben  had  been  sitting  for  his  picture  to  Blanche,  he 
merely  called  them  all  a  pack  of  fools  two  or  three  times  over, 
desired  to  have  no  more  such  nonsense,  and  appeared  to  have 
forgotten  all  about  it  before  dinner. 

But  Reuben  did  not  so  soon  recover  his  composure.  He  had 
a  more  serious  cause  for  anxiety  than  the  humiliation  he  had 
met  with  from  his  choleric  and  eccentric  relative.  He  had  placed 
more  that  day  in  the  hands  of  Blanche  than  one  of  his  literary 
efforts — he  had  slipped  into  the  folds  of  the  MS.  a  full  confession 
of  the  resistless  power  of  her  charms  with  a  frank  and  honorable 
declaration  of  love. 

He  was  not  long  without  a  reply,  under  her  own  hand  and 
seal. 

The  lessons  of  the  following  day  were  disposed  of,  and  Reu 
ben  was  hurrying  to  regain  his  room,  and  bury  himself  in  soli 
tude,  when  he  saw  a  servant  of  the  Barsacs,  and  observed  him 
inquiring  for  somebody  or  something.  Reuben  ran  over  to  the 
man,  who  put  a  note  and  small  paper  parcel  into  his  hand, 
touched  his  hat,  and  went  away.  In  an  instant  Reuben  was  in 
his  closet,  and  had  already  torn  the  parcel  open. 

It  was  his  MS.,  with  a  few  lines  from  Blanche,  to  the  effect 
that  she  had  read  it  with  the  greatest  pleasure,  and  thought  it 
exceedingly  clever  and  interesting.  With  respect  to  a  detached 
paper  which  she  had  found  enclosed,  she  had  read  that  also,  but 
not  with  the  same  satisfaction  ;  she  begged  him  to  excuse  her  for 
observing  that  it  did  not  appear  to  her  to  be  as  well  considered 
as  his  other  essay. 

The  other  note  was  from  Mrs.  Barsac,  suggesting  the  expe 
diency  of  discontinuing  the  sittings  to  her  daughter,  at  least  for 
the  present ;  indeed,  she  was  happy  to  acquaint  him  that  Blanche 
was  in  hopes  of  even  finishing  it  without  giving  him  any  further 
trouble,  and  was  very  thankful  to  him  for  the  sittings  with 
which  he  had  favoured  her. 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  85 


CHAPTER  IX. 

» 

A.N"    AFFLICTING     DISCOVERY,    WHICH     OUGHT    TO    HAVE    BEEN     MADB 
SOONEE. 

REUBEN  was  not  long  in  ignorance  of  the  overwhelming  truth 
which  the  sagacious  reader  has  probably  already  divined.  School 
boys  are  great  proficients  in  the  art  of  ingeniously  tormenting 
The  very  next  day,  while  the  smart  was  fresh  of  the  wounds  re 
ceived  in  the  last  chapter,  Reuben  overheard  the  following  dia 
logue,  which  had  in  all  probability  been  concerted  expressly  to 
be  overheard  by  him. 

"  Think  of  dry  sherry,"  said  one,  "  being  Medlicott's  grand 
mamma  !  She  will  keep  him  in  precious  order,  won't  she  ?" 

"  That  she  will,  and  no  mistake,"  replied  another. 

"  I  hear  it's  not  dry  sherry  at  all ;  it's  brown,"  said  a  third. 

"Pale,  I  say." 

"  So  do  I.     The  pale  one,  for  a  bottle  of  pop." 

"  Done,"  said  the  backer  of  one  of  the  other  ladies. 

"  Why,  it's  pale  sherry  he  is  in  love  with  ;  to  be  in  love  with 
his  grandmother  would  be  capital  fun." 

This  was  the  first  hint.  Confirmation  followed  quickly 
enough,  and  in  only  too  great  an  abundance. 

Reuben  often  laughed,  in  his  maturer  years,  at  the  follies  and 
miseries  of  this  period  of  his  life.  It  seemed  to  him,  as  it  has 
done  to  most  men,  hardly  credible  that  his  puerile  infatuation 
should  have  carried  him  to  such  preposterous  lengths,  and  still 
harder  to  understand  how  he  could  have  made  himself  so 
wretched  as  he  did  by  his  incomparable  absurdities. 

The  notion  of  that  grim  old  grandfather  marrying  the  fair 
young  Blanche,  with  those  sweet,  calm,  bewitching  eyes,  almost 
overset  his  reason.  The  principal  fact  was  so-horrible,  that  he 
took  little  or  no  interest  in  the  subordinate  events  connected  with 
it.  The  marriage,  although  decided  on,  was  not  to  take  place 
for  some  time  ;  there  were  delays  and  difficulties,  as  usual  in  hy 
meneal  transactions,  and  rumour  ascribed  them  to  various  causes, 
among  others  to  the  true  one,  the  embarrassed  state  of  the  Dean's 
private  circumstances,  notwithstanding  his  rich  preferments  in  the 
Church.  Blanche  Barsac  went  on  a  visit  at  this  time  to  friends 
in  London,  and  Reuben  knew  nothing  of  it  for  several  weeks, 
during  which  interval  his  correspondence  with  his  parents,  and 


86  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

the  letters  he  received  from  his  Aunt  Mountjoy,  and  his  friends 
Winning  and  Primrose,  helped  to  familiarise  his  mind,  in  some 
measure,  with  the  subject  that  was  most  painful  to  reflect  on,  and 
gradually  t<5  extract  the  sting  of  his  anguish.  Primrose  wrote 
him  a  very  pleasant  letter,  in  which  he  paralleled  the  Dean  and 
his  bride  with  Tithonus  and  Aurora,  and  discussed  in  a  most 
amusing  manner  the  singular  passion  which  young  women  some 
times  conceive  for  men  who  might  be  their  fathers.  Neither 
Hyacinth  nor -Winning  had  the  slightest  notion  of  their  friend 
Reuben's  competition  with  his  grandfather  for  the  lady's  affec 
tions;  and  as  they  had  both  met  Blanche  in  town,  it  was  per 
fectly  plain  she  had  kept  his  secret  with  the  most  amiable  fidelity. 

The  truth,  indeed,  was  that  Blanche  was  very  fond  of  Reuben, 
and  had  the  sincerest  regard  for  him,  which  she  afterwards 
showed  upon  many  an  occasion,  as  the  course  of  this  history  will 
prove. 

Meanwhile  his  schoolboy  days  were  nearly  numbered.  He 
was  actually  now  within  three  months  of  the  period  which  had 
been  fixed  upon  for  his  leaving  Finchley,  where  be  had  learned  as 
much  as  his  preceptors  professed  to  teach,  and  more  a  great  deal 
than  was  necessary  as  preparation  for  either  of  the  universities. 
The  period  of  his  departure,  however,  was  precipitated  by  the 
good-nature  of  Mi1.  Brough,  who,  having  noticed  that  Reuben 
was  looking  ill,  mentioned  it  one  morning  to  his  grandfather, 
whom  he  chanced  to  meet,  adding  that  change  of  air  and  relax 
ation  for  a  week  or  two  would  (with  deference  to  the  Dean's 
better  judgment)  be  of  the  greatest  service  to  him. 

"  You  think  so,"  said  the  Dean,  who  was  propitious  at  the 
moment,  "  very  well,  let  it  be  so, — Chichester  is  a  great  way  off, 
but  I'm  going  down  to-night  to  see  how  the  alterations  are  going 
on  in  my  house  at  Westbury,  and  I'll  take  him  with  me.  He 
shall  have  a  gun  to  shoot  the  rabbits,  and  Mrs.  Reeves,  my  house 
keeper,  will  make  dandelion  tea  for  him." 

"  No  plan  could  be  better,"  said  Mr.  Brough. 

"  But  you  had  better,"  said  the  Dean,  "  give  him  a  book  of 
Virgil  to  get  by  heart;  he  can't  shoot  rabbits  all  the  day  long." 

"  With  great  respect,  sir,"  said  the  complaisant  but  humane 
schoolmaster,  "  Mrs.  Reeves  and  the  rabbits  will  do  him  more 
good  just  now  than  a  book  of  Virgil." 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,"  said  the  Dean,  "  and  as  the  coach 
office  is  at  hand,  I'll  book  the  boy  now  and  secure  his  place." 

So  Reuben  was  booked  like  a  .parcel,  without  having  a  voice 


OR,  THE  COMING   MAN.  87 

hi  the  matter,  and  he  went  down  that  night  with  the  Dean  to 
his  place  at  Westbury. 


CHAPTER  X. 

BEUBEN    GETS  AN    INSIGHT    INTO    THE    PBIVATE   LIFE   OF   HIS    GKAND- 
FATHER. 

WHILE  the  following  morning  was  yet  grey,  Reuben's  sleep  was 
broken  by  an  infinity  of  discordant  sounds,  produced  by  carpen 
ters,  bricklayers,  glaziers,  and  chimney-doctors,  dispersed  over  all 
parts  of  the  house,  and  all  in  turn  occasionally  drowned  by  the 
harsh  thundering  voice  of  his  grandfather,  dictating  to  the  sev 
eral  tradesmen,  and  informing  them  all  in  rotation,  that  they  were 
scandalously  ignorant  of  their  business;  that  he  knew  more  of 
masonry  himself  than  half  the  masons  in  England ;  that  painters 
ought  to  know  something  of  mixing  colours,  but  he  never  saw  a 
painter  who  did ;  that  it  was  more  noise  than  work  with  the 
carpenters;  and  as  to  the  chimney-doctors,  they  were  a  pack  of 
charlatans.  Reuben,  after  rubbing  his  eyes,  stole  out  of  bed,  and 
peeped  over  a  balustrade  "close  to  the  door  of  his  bed-room,  from 
whence  he  obtained  a  view  of  the  Dean  in  a  loose  old  trailing 
dressing-gown,  alternately  lecturing  and  abusing  the  mechanics, 
some  of  whom  were  quietly  going  on  with  their  work  without 
taking  much  notice  of  their  eccentric  employer,  while  others  were 
suspending  their  hammers,  their  brushes,  or  their  diamonds,  and 
receiving  his  observations  with  affected  gratitude  and  respect. 
Reuben  stole  back  again  to  his  bed,  for  it  was  still  early ;  but 
he  had  scarcely  laid  his  head  on  his  pillow,  when  his  door  was 
thrown  open  with  a  clatter,  and  in  stalked  the  Dean,  followed  by 
a  couple  of  glaziers,  to  whom  he  was  giving  a  torrent  of  instruc 
tions,  in  compliance  with  the  first  of  which  the  only  window  in 
the  room  was  chucked  in  a  trice  out  of  the  frame ;  so  that  Reuben 
might  as  well  have  had  to  make  his  toilet  al  fresco.  He  dressed 
himself  in  presence  of  his  grandfather  and  the  glaziers,  while  the 
former  commenced  ransacking  an  old  bookcase,  the  contents  of 
which  he  had  quite  forgotten,  mixing  up  running  commentaries  on 
the  books  as  he  tumbled  them  out,  with  odds  and  ends  of  advice  to 
Reuben  on  the  subject  of  rabbit-shooting  and  other  similar  sports, 


88  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

which  naturally  led  him  to  his  own  exploits  with  the  gun,  some 
of  them  not  much  less  amazing  than  the  exploits  of  Baron  Mun- 
chausen.  Then  he  held  forth  on  the  various  breeds  of  rabbits  and 
their  extraordinary  fecundity,  and  told  anecdotes  of  rabbits  that 
made  the  mechanics  grin,  and  even  Reuben  laugh,  who  had  not 
laughed  for  weeks.  He  told  them  Bacon's  story  of  the  simple 
schoolboy  who  was  astounded  when  the  rabbits  scampered  off 
on  his  shouting  in  Latin  to  his.  comrade,  never  dreaming  that 
rabbits  were  acquainted  with  the  dead  languages ;  and  how 
Hobbs,  when  he  lived  at  Old  Sarum,-  humorously  concluded, 
that  a  burgess  in  the  English  language  was  synonymous  with  a 
cony,  as  the  conies  were  the  only  constituency  which  even  in  his 
time  that  ancient  borough  had  to  boast  of.  The  glaziers  thought 
the  Dean  omniscient,  particularly  when  he  made  some  just  re 
marks  on  matters  connected  with  their  own  trade.  However,  as 
he  went  down  to  breakfast  he  forfeited  their  good  opinion  to  a 
certain  extent;  for,  taking  a  hammer  out  of  the  hand  of  one  of 
the  carpenters'  apprentices,  to  show  him  how  to  drive  a  nail  with 
precision,  he  missed  his  aim  by  a  quarter  of  an  inch,  and  gave 
himself  a  smart  rap  on  the  thumb.  He  pretended  it  was  no 
thing,  but  the  .apprentice  knew  very  well  what  a  sore  thing  it 
was,  and  quoted  a  familiar  adage  as  soon  as  the  old  gentleman 
was  out  of  hearing. 

The  Dean  only  remained  a  day  or  two,  passing  the  time  be 
tween  odd  discussions  with  his  workmen,  and  researches  in  his 
library,  chiefly  among  the  fathers,  to  support  some  theological 
dogma  or  another  which  he  was  shortly  about  to  propound  to 
the  world  either  in  a  sermon  or  a  tract.  Engaged  in  this  latter 
occupation,  he  utterly  forgot  his  engagement  to  Reuben  to  give 
him  the  gun,  and  set  him  down  to  copy  long  passages  from  Eu- 
sebius  and  Bellarmine,  which  filled  up  the  interval  between  a 
straggling  breakfast  and  a  dinner  of  the  same  character.  The 
house  being  in  such  confusion,  everything  was  done  in  the  libra 
ry,  which  was,  of  course,  not  much  behind  the  other  apartments 
in  point  of  disorder.  The  books  lay  on  the  floor  in  heaps,  for 
the  shelves  had  been  just  painted,  and  the  Dean  sat  at  his  break 
fast  amidst  a  chaos  of  classics  and  divinity,  simultaneously  eating 
and  reading  with  equal  voracity ;  now  and  then  striding  to  the 
door  to  shout  directions  to  the  painters,  and  bellowing  to  Mrs. 
Reeves  for  hot  water  to  shave.  He  always  used  his  library  or 
study  as  his  dressing-room,  wherever  he  resided.  In  the  present 
state  of  his  house,  his  toilet  was  in  perfect  keeping  with  the  gen- 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN.  89 

eral  disc'idei  of  the  establishment.  Ho  shaved  himself  in  a  little 
shattered  looking-glass,  which  he  set  upon  the  mantel-piece,  not 
even  waiting  uiitil  he  had  quite  finished  his  meal,  but  travelling 
backwards  and  forwards  between  the  breakfast-table  and  the 
hearth-stone,  uttering  all  manner  of  strange  noises  and  internal 
rumblings,  to  the  consternation  of  his  gentle  grandson,  who  had 
never  seen  or  heard  so  much  of  the  private  life  of  his  maternal 
ancestor  before. 

Mingled,  however,  with  the  inajticulate  sounds  elicited  partly 
by  the  difficulty  of  eating  and  shaving  at  the  same  time,  partly 
by  the  embarrassment  of  seeing  more  chins  than  one  in  the  mir 
ror,  came  forth  at  intervals  a  multitude  of  sound,  hard-headed 
maxims  and  receipts  for  success  in  life,  intended  for  Reuben's 
use,  and  probably  more  likely  to  remain  impressed  on  his  mem 
ory,  delivered  as  they  were,  than  if  they  had  been  imparted  with 
more  dignity  in  any  portico  or  academic  shade. 

"  Aim  at  being  a  great  man  ;  there  is  something  great  in  even 
failing  to  become  great.  Encourage  the  passions  that  lead  to 
greatness ;  there  are  three  of  them  ;  love  of  business,  love  of  rep 
utation,  and  love  of  power.  But  if  you  would  be  a  good  man, 
which  is  better  than  being  a  great  one,  you  must  love  two  things 
besides,  you  must  love  truth  and  you  must  love  mankind.  I  put 
truth  foremost;  God  forbid  I  should  give  man  the  precedence; 
nine  men  out  of  ten  are  scoundrels,  not  that  we  ought  not  to  love 
scoundrels,  or  try  to  love  them ;  but  it  is  a  difficult  thing  to  do, — 
the  cutler  who  made  this  razor  was  an  arrant  scoundrel."  The 
Dean  had  prepared  Reuben  for  this  last  remark  by  a  series  of 
grunts  with  which  he  had  interpolated  the  latter  part  of  his 
speech.  He  gulped  down  some  coft'ee,  soaping  the  edge  of  the 
cup  in  doing  so,  and  resumed  in  a  new  track  of  observation,  while 
Reuben  sat  imbibing  his  counsels,  and  gazing  almost  with  terror 
at  he  bloody  harvest  which  the  bad  razor  was  reaping. 

"  Preserve  due  order  among  the  objects  of  your  respect  and 
veneration.  Place  them  in  your  mind  as  you  do  pounds,  shil 
lings,  and  pence  in  your  arithmetic.  Respect  piety  and  virtue 
first ;  genius  and  learning  in  the  second  place ;  rank  and  author 
ity  in  the  third,  when  they  are  not  disgraced  in  the  persons  of 
their  possessors — they  often  are." 

Here  he  finished  his  operations  on  one  s;de  of  his  face,  and 
refreshed  himself  with  some  coftee  and  toast  before  he  proceeded 
to  the  other  moiety. 

"  Wealth,  and  what  is  called  blood,  have  no  claims  upon  your 


90  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

reverence  at  all.  Birth  is  an  accident.  Wealth  is  odious  when 
it  is  acquired  by  sordid  methods,  and  when  it  is  obtained  by  tal 
ent  and  industry,  the  industry  and  talent  command  our  homage, 
not  the  fortune  obtained  by  them.  Before  good  men  be  rev 
erent;  before  the  wise  be  diffident;  before  the  great  be  discreet; 
but  never  bow  your  knee,  or  bait  your  breath  in  the  presence  of 
the  mere  millionnaire,  or  the  mere  patrician." 

He  cut  himself  again,  interpolated  another  attack  on  the  cut 
ler,  and  resumed —  * 

"I  never  did.  My* learned  pate' — if  there  is  any  learning 
in  it — never  '  ducked  to  the  golden  fool,'  as  Shakspeare  has  it. 
Hand  me  that  towel." 

Keuben  obeyed,  and  in  doing  so  took  courage  to  say  that  he 
recollected  another  passage  in  Shakspeare,  breathing  the  spirit  of 
his  grandfather's  observations. 

"I  held  it  ever, 

Virtue  and  wisdom  were  endowments  greater 
Than  nobleness  and  riches." 

"  Well  said  and  well  remembered :  who  is  the  speaker  ?"  asked 
the  Dean,  looking  down  with  grim  approbation  upon  his  youthful 
companion,  as  he  wiped  his  razor,  having  concluded  his  sangui 
nary  work. 

"The  Ephesian  lord,  sir,  in  the  play  of  'Pericles,'"  said 
Reuben,  blushing  at  his  little  success. 

"  Shakspeare  knew,"  said  the  Dean,  "that  there  are  lords  as 
well  as  commoners  who  understand  in  what  true  greatness  con 
sists,  and  who  draw  honour  from  its  proper  fountains.  Men  can 
not  help  being  lords ;  they  are  neither  to  be  respected  for  it,  nor 
despised  for  it.  Hand  me  that  coat  on  the  back  of  the  chair 
yonder." 

While  Reuben  was  handing  the  coat,  his  grandfather  was 
disembowelling  the  huge  pockets  of  his  dressing  gown  ;  and  un 
questionably  it  was  a  strange  miscellany  that  he  produced  from 
those  receptacles ;  letters,  invitations,  soiled  handkerchiefs,  odd 
gloves,  keys,  memorandums,  notes  of  sermons,  builders'  estimates, 
a  heap  of  copper  coins,  with  here  and  there  a  sixpence  shining 
among  them,  a  great  many  bills,  and  very  few  receipts.  AH 
these  articles  he  now  thrust  into  the  pockets  of  the  coat,  in  do'ng 
which  he  dropped  one  of  the  notes  and  nodded  to  Reuben  to 
pick  it  up. 

Our  poor  Reuben  1  in  picking  up  the  note  he  glanced  at  the 


OR,  THE  COMING   MAN.  91 

writing,  nn<l  recognised  the  hand  of  Blanche.  Down  it  went, 
however,  crushed  among  the  other  things,  with  no  more  ceremony 
or  sentiment  than  if  it  had  been  a,  tavern  reckoning.  The  heart 
of  the  susceptible  boy  felt  crushed  along  with  it,  but,  fortunately 
for  him  just  at  present,  his  grandfather's  society  was  perfectly  in 
compatible  with  the  indulgence  of  tender  thoughts.  The  Dean 
was  no  sooner  dressed  than  he  took  Reuben  with  him  to  inspect 
the  stables  and  offices,  thence  hurried  him  through  the  garden, 
over  the  farm,  and  round  about  the  neighbourhood  for  a  couple  of 
hours,  after  which  he  returned  to  a  lusty  luncheon,  had  another 
altercation  with  the  contractor,  and  sitting  down  to  Eusebius 
himself,  set  Reuben  to  copy  pages  of  Bellarmine  until  dinner. 

At  dinner  he  was  equally  instructive,  though  perhaps  more 
vainglorious. 

"  Keep  doing,  always  doing,  and  whatever  you  do,  do  it  with, 
all  your  heart,  soul,  and  strength.  Wishing,  dreaming,  intend 
ing,  murmuring,  talking,  sighing,  and  repining,  are  all  idle  and 
profitless  employments.  The  only  manly  occupation  is  to  keep 
doing.  I  have  been  often  told  by  wiseacres  that  building  was  a 
ruinous  taste,  but  it  is  true  of  one  kind  of  building,  of  castles  in 
the  air — a  sort  of  cattle  that  I  never  built.  If  I  am  a  good  ex 
ample  for  anything,  it  is  for  energy  ;  I  study  with  energy,  I  exer 
cise  with  energy,  I  sleep  and  I  eat  with  enero-v." 

Reuben  had  the  proof  of  the  latter  as.  rii(>n  before  his  eyes, 
in  the  rapid  consumption  of  the  beef  and  mustard  which  his 
grandsire  was  making,  while  he  had  scarcely  disposed  of  the  first 
slice  he  had  -been  helped  to.  The  Dean  at  length  observed  his 
descendant's  inefficiency  with  the  knife  and  fork. 

"  Dine  like  a  man,  sir,"  he  said,  helping  him  a  second  time ; 
"  I  don't  approve  of  your  dainty  dastardly  eaters ;  I  don't  like  the 
man  who  does  not  like  his  dinner;  that's  one  of  my  maxims; 
he  may  be  honest  but  I  am  not  sure  of  it.  When  I  don't  see  a 
good  appetite  I  am  apt  to  suspect  there  is  a  bad  digestion ;  and 
I  cannot  help  connecting  that  with  something  auniss  in  the  moral 
organisation.  WTe  are  compound  beings ;  we  are  not  all  body, 
neither  are  we  all  mind.  The  stomach  and  the  conscience  have 
a  close  affinity,  take  my  word  for  it."  The  Dean  paused,  took  a 
glass  of  port,  pushed  the  water  to  Reuben,  and  toped  he  was 
careful  in  the  choice  of  his  friends. 

"  Have  you  many  ?"  he  inquired. 

"A  good  many,  sir,"  said  Reuben. 

"  You  are  a  fortunate  fellow,"  said  his  grandfather  sneeringly ; 


92  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  | 

"Achilles  had  only  Patroclus ;  Pylades  only  Orestes,  and  you 
have  a  troop  it  seems.  Who  are  they  ?" 

"  Henry  Winning." 

"  I  have  heard  of  him  ;  a  promising  young  man." 

"Hyacinth  Primrose." 

"  Anybody  else  ? — you  have  not  come  to  the  end  of  the  list." 

"  Well,  indeed,  sir,"  said  Reuben,  "  I  had  no  notion  how  few 
friends  I  had,  until  I  counted  them." 

"  There  is  an  important  difference,"  said  the  Dean,  "  between 
friendships  and  intimacies.  Intimacies  are  not  friendships,  but 
the  tests  of  friendships.  It  is,  unfortunately,  only  through  inti 
macies  we  can  discover  how  unworthy  men  are  of  possessing  our 
friendship.  We  think  we  are  deceived  by  our  friends,  when  we 
have  only  discovered  that  they  never  were  true  friends  at  all." 

Two  or  three  days  passed  in  this  manner,  and  then  the  Dean, 
left  Westbury  as  abruptly  as  he  came  there.  One  morning,  after 
breakfast,  having  curtly  recommended  Reuben  to  the  care  of  Mrs. 
Reeves,  he  thrust  all  his  papers  and  things  (that  his  pockets  did 
not  hold)  into  a  carpet  bag,  grasped  it  by  the  lug,  as  a  constable 
might  do  a  thief,  and  strode  away  with  the  steps  of  Homer's 
Poseidon,  to  meet  the  coach  for  Hereford,  which  passed  his  gate 
at  a  certain  well-known  hour.  Few  ever  deeply  regretted  the 
departure  of  Dean  Wynclham.  He  usually  left  behind  him  the 
kind  of  feelings  that  people  are  conscious  of  when  a  storm  has 
ceased  which  threatened  to  pull  down  their  chimneys,  and  kept 
them  awake  the  livelong  night.  The  workmen  were  decidedly 
the  happier  when  he  was  gone.  Old  Mrs.  Reeves  always  tried 
to  persuade  herself  that  she  was  distressed  upon  such  occasions, 
but  in  truth  she  was  more  comfortable  in  her  master's  absence, 
just  because  she  was  quieter ;  she  expressed  the  exact  state  of  her 
mind  when  she  said  that  she  "missed  him  very  much,"  for  we 
miss  many  a  thing  that  we  have  no  wish  to  have  back  again  in  a 
hurry — a  truth  well  known  to  widows  in  particular.  Reuben 
alone  would  have  been  better  pleased  if  his  grandfather  had  pro 
tracted  his  stay.  The  Dean's  company  had  the  singular  effect  of 
banishing  from  his  thoughts  the  very  subject  which  it  might  have 
been  supposed  it  was  particularly  calculated  to  encourage.  Reu 
ben  was  carried  away  and  interested  in  spite  of  himself,  by  a  force 
and  originality  of  character  which,  indeed,  produced  upon  most 
people,  a  very  strong  impression.  He  was  won  too  by  the  sub 
stantial  kindness  of  the  old  gentleman's  behaviour.  In  short  he 
was  more  inclined  upon  the  whole  to  gratitude  than  to  resent- 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  93 

ment;  he  was  probably  too  young  to  be  furiously  jealous;  or 
perhaps  it  is  not  very  easy  or  natural  to  be  jealous  of  a  mail's 
grandfather. 

In  the  way  of  rabbit  shooting,  our  hero  did  as  little  as  it  was 
possible  for  him  to  do.  for  which  there  were  several  reasons,  but 
the  principal  one  was  this, — his  grandfather  went  away  without 
giving  him  the  gun  he  had  promised  him.  This  was  a  matter  of 
less  concern  to  the  rabbits  probably  than  it  was  to  Reuben ;  but 
even  to  him  it  was  of  no  great  consequence,  for  he  never  had 
much  enjoyment  in  any  out-of-door  occupation  in  which  he  had 
no  associates.  Had  he  made  war  upon  the  rabbits,  therefore,  it 
would  probably  have  been  over  in  a  single  campaign,  and  it  iy 
questionable  if  he  would  have  killed  a  sufficient  number  of  tlu, 
enemy  to  entitle  himself  to  the  honours  of  a  triumph.  Failing  the 
sports  of  the  field,  the  resources  at  his  command  were  the  library, 
the  workmen,  and  the  society  of  the  housekeeper.  He  was  rather 
successful  with  Mrs.  Reeves,  because  it  was  easy  to  be  so,  if  you 
allowed  her  to  be  kind  and  attentive  to  you  in  her  own  fashion, 
tasted  her  gooseberry  jams,  pretended  to  give  her  dandelion  tea 
a  trial,  and  allowed  her  to  go  in  and  out  and  fidget  about  you, 
without  snarling,  or  looking  thunder  at  her.  But  Mrs.  Reeves 
was  not  an  Egeria  with  whom  you  could  live  in  a  cave  or  a  des 
ert.  The  silent  library  was  more  fascinating  to  Reuben,  so  he 
established  himself  there,  and  after  some  hours'  deliberation  com 
menced  making  a  catalogue,  and  he  labored  so  incessantly  at  this 
undertaking  for  several  days,  scarcely  affording  himself  time  for 
food  and  exercise,  that  Mrs.  Reeves  concluded  it  was  a  task  set 
him  by  his  grandfather,  and  never  approached  his  table  without 
heaving  audible  sighs  and  uttering  various  little  ejaculations  of  a 
compassionate  nature.  At  last  he  noticed  these  symptoms  of 
mental  uneasiness,  and  it  was  easy  to  bring  the  old  lady  to  an 
explanation. 

"  It  was  a  pity,  so  it  was,  to  see  so  young  a  gentleman  tied  to 
the  desk  from  morning  till  night,  when  it  would  do  him  so  much 
more  good  to  be  diverting  himself  in  the  fields,  or  even  assisting 
the  haymakers  in  making  the  hay ;  she  had  heard  stories  of 
students  growing  double  from  moping  too  long  over  their  books, 
and  though  her  master  was  so  old  a  man,  few  young  men  of  the 
present  day  could  do  what  he  could  do." 

"There  is  a  great  deal  of  sense  in  what  you  say,"  said  Reu 
ben,  "  and  I'll  take  your  advice  this  instant.  I  have  been  work 
ing  unnecessarily  hard,  but  from  this  day  forth,  while  I  remain 


94  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

here,  I  will  be  ruled  By  you  and  divide  my  time  more  equally 
between  business  and  relaxation." 

If  you  want  to  win  an  old  woman's  heart,  let  her  advise  you, 
and  either  take  her  advice,  or  leave  her  under  the  impression  that 
you  will  take  it.  The  latter  will  do  nearly  as  well. 

Reuben,  however,  actually  followed  Mrs.  Reeves's  suggestions, 
so  that  he  was  soon  in  the  highest  favour. 

The  works  going  on  in  the  house  now  began  to  engage  his 
attention,  particularly  when  the  weather  was  unfavourable  for 
walking.  It  was  not  only  amusing  but  instructive  to  watch  the 
processes  of  the  different  mechanics,  who  were  employed  in  the 
extensive  alterations  going  forward.  The  first  acquaintance  h$ 
made  was  with  the  young  carpenter,  whom  the  Dean  had  taught 
to  drive  a  nail  at  the  cost  of  bruising  one  of  his  own.  From  thig 
intelligent  lad  he  picked  up  nearly  as  much  of  the  trade  as  he 
could  have  done  in  the  greater  part  of  a  seven  years'  apprentice 
ship.  He  gained  the  carpenter's  aifections  by  playing  the  flageo 
let,  and  he  was  repaid  for  his  strains  by  being  instructed  in  the 
use  of  the  saw  and  the  chisel.  Indeed,  the  flageolet  soon  be 
came  a  great  source  of  enjoyment  to  all  the  workmen,  without  at 
all  hindering  their  labours,  and  Reuben  was  often  prevailed  upon 
to  station  himself  in  a  central  position  on  the  principal  staircase, 
perched  on  the  bannisters,  or  on  one  of  the  painter's  ladders,  so 
that  the  music  might  be  distributed  as  equally  as  possible  over 
the  whole  house.  The  most  popular  airs  were  the  cheerful  ones, 
but  there  was  one  of  the  glaziers,  a  pallid  pensive  young  man, 
who  always  begged  for  something  sentimental,  and  Reuben  after 
wards  found  the  name  of  Fanny  in  straggling  letters  upon  a  pane 
in  his  bed-chamber,  which  had  most  probably  been  scratched 
there  with  his  diamond  by  the  love-lorn  artisan. 

One  evening  after  he  had  done  a  good  day's  work  at  the 
catalogue,  while  Mrs.  Reeves  was  making  his  tea — not  the  dan 
delion — the  young  carpenter  came  with  an  humble  petition  to 
Reuben.  There  was  dancing  going  on  in  the  farm-yard,  but  the 
lads  and  lasses  had  no  music  except  the  whistling  of  one  of  the 
ploughmen,  and  if  Master  Medlicott  would  come  down  with  his 
flageolet,  and  play  them  a  few  tunes,  he  would  make  the  assembly 
happy  and  grateful  beyond  all  expression.  Reuben  was  easily 
persuaded  to  do  a  good-natured  thing,  so  he  very  cheerfully  con 
sented  to  improve  the  rustic  orchestra.  Mrs.  Reeves  was  at  first 
adverse,  but  she  was  soon  brought  round,  and  would  even  have 
gone  to  the  ball  herself,  only  for  certain  infirmities  connected  with 
her  feet,  which  always  indisposed  her  to  walking. 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN.  95 

The  farm-yard  presented  a  gay  sight,  and  there  never  wss  a 
happier  throng  assembled  in  any  ball-room,  than  was  assembled 
there  that  evening  under  a  full  moon,  which  with  the  rosy  re 
mains  of  daylight  afforded  the  revellers  as  much  illumination  as 
they  cared  to  have.  The  excitement  was  at  its  height  when 
Reuben  appeared  with  his  instrument,  and  the  homestead  rang 
through  all  the  sheds  and  olHces  with  the  praises  of  his  good-na 
ture,  cleverness,  and  condescension.  It  is  not  very  common  to  wit 
ness  so  harmonious  a  union  of  husbandry  and  handicraft  as  was 
witnessed  on  the  occasion  of  this  impromptu  festivity,  for  the 
masons,  painters,  plumbers,  and  other  workmen  employed  in  thf 
house,  were  mingled  with  the  ploughboys,  dairymaids,  and  hay 
makers ;  the  ball  was  opened  by  Reuben's  friend,  the  carpenter, 
and  Dorothy,  the  gardener's  daughter,  a  full-blown  rose  of  a  girl, 
well  able  to  dance  down  all  the  rest  of  the  company,  particularly 
the  mechanical  portion  of  it.  Jenny,  who  held  an  office  in  the 
dairy,  and  was  fair  and  mild  as  her  own  milk,  danced  with  the 
chief  of  the  masons;  Molly,  the  under  hen-wife,  was  led  off  by  a 
plumber  ;  Maria  and  Rebecca,  two  of  the  housemaids,  consented 
to  be  the  partners  of  a  bell-hanger  and  a  painter  ;  the  rest  paired 
off  as  they  best  could,  and  whether  it  was  a  reel,  a  jig,  a  country 
dance,  or  a  fandango,  there  never  tripped  a  merrier  group  on  the 
best  chalked  lloor  in  London,  than  our  hero  put  into  motion  by 
the  first  breath  of  his  flageolet,  just  as  if  it  had  been  an  electric 
machine  with  a  system  of  wires  attached  to  the  heels  of  the  dan 
cers.  Reuben  climbed  by  a  ladder  to  the  flat  summit  of  an  un 
finished  hay-rick,  and  seating  himself  in  that  commanding  posi 
tion  shed  his  toe-inspiring  melody  upon  the  animated  crowd  be 
neath  him.  The  love-lorn  glazier,  who  would  not  dance  because 
his  Fanny  was  far  away,  was  a  pensive  spectator  of  the  scene 
from  the  topmost  step  of  a  wooden  staircase  which  led  to  a  gra 
nary  ;  and  various  urchins  about  the  farm,  who  were  either  too 
untaught,  or  too  unclad,  to  be  admitted  into  the  circle  (for  there 
are  exclusives  even  in  the  farm-yard),  climbed  into  the  boughs 
of  a  great  tree,  where,  concealed  from  view  by  the  foliage,  they 
nevertheless  managed  to  make  their  presence  sufficiently  known 
by  the  shouts  and  loud  laughter  with  which  they  hailed  all  the 
little  mischances  and  fatalities,  liberties  and  necessities,  incidental 
to  rustic  gaiety  and  moonlight  mirth. 

In  short,  the  jollity  was  of  the  most  exuberant  description  ;  nor, 
though  the  iance  was  not  tipsy,  was  there  wanting  a  supply  of 
cider  and  brown  ale  from  the  neighbouring  village  to  refresh  the 


96  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  | 

company,  for  the  farm-people  had  clubbed  half-a-crown  to  treat  the 
tradesmen-,  and  Reuben  graciously  contributed  the  same  sum  from 
the  residue  of  his  pocket-money,  so  th;it  there  was  quite  enough  of 
the  two  beverages  to  promote  innocent  exhilaration,  and  not 
enough  to  stimulate  it  beyond  the  bounds  of  propriety.  The 
first  tankard  was  voted  unanimously  to  the  obliging  Orpheus  of 
the  evening,  who,  after  a  moderate  libation,  descended  from  the  rick, 
and  graciously  bowing  to  the  revellers,  and  making  them  a  dainty 
little  speech,  but:  quite  long  enough  for  the  occasion,  with  some 
thing  in  it  to  please  everybody,  lads  and  lasses,  rustics  and  me 
chanics,  withdrew  from  the  yard  amidst  loud  plaudits,  and  carry 
ing  all  hearts  along  with  him. 


CHAFfER  XI. 

HOW   REUBEN   CELEBRATED   HIS   GRANDFATHER'S   MARRIA.GE. 

IT  was  a  great  step  towards  Reuben's  complete  recovery,  when 
he  became  composed  enough  to  converse  with  Mrs.  Reeves  upon 
his  grandfather's  singular  marriage.  Mrs.  Reeves  had  long  been 
aoxious  1f>  have  a  palaver  with  him  on  the  subject,  but  she  did 
not  know  how  an  allusion  to  it  by  her  might  be  taken,  and  this 
consideration  had  kept  her  silent.  But  it  was  not  in  the  nature 
of  woman  to  endure  such  restraint  for  ever,  so  when  the  house 
keeper  found  that  Reuben  would  not  take  the  initiative,  she  de 
termined  to  take  it  herself,  and  when  she  once  began  it  was  a 
task  beyond  the  power  of  Reuben  to  stop  her. 

"  Well,  wonders,"  she  thought,  "  would  never  cease,  and  she 
did  not  know  what  the  world  would  come  to  at  last,  for  she  re 
membered  the  time  when  gentlemen  who  were  stricken  in  years, 
like  her  master,  used  to  think  of  the  burial-service  more  than  the 
marriage-service.  To  be  sure  the  Dean  was  hale  and  hearty,  and 
a  stout  comely  man  for  his  years,  but  he  was  an  old  man  never 
theless  ;  for  she  was  not  a  young  creature  herself,  but  she  remem 
bered  the  first  day  she  ever  laid  eyes  upon  him,  when  she  was 
only  a  giddy  girl,  and  he  was  not  a  young  man  at  that  time.  She 
had  served  two  mistresses,  and  she  never  thought  to  be  called  on 
to  serve  a  third,  but  if  it  was  the  will  of  Heaven,  she  was  pre 
pared  to  submit." 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  97 

Reuben  approved  of  the  spirit  evinced  by  Mrs.  Reeves.  It 
was  necessary  to  say  something,  and  this  answered  the  purpose. 

Mrs.  Reeves  then  proceeded  to  say,  that  "  she  didn't  see  much 
use  in  sense  and  learning,  since  all  the  learning  her  master  had  in 
his  head  didn't  make  him  wiser  than  other  people  after  all :  it  was 
bad  enough  to  marry  at  all,  but  if  marry  he  must,  he  might  have 
chosen  some  respectable  elderly  person,  not  a  giddy,  gay,  inex 
perienced  young  lady,  and  handsome,  she  was  informed,  into  the 
bargain. 

This  was  painful  to  Reuben's  ears,  and  he  would  have  put 
an  end  to  it,  if  he  had  been  able. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said,  again  in  doubt  what  he  ought  to  say, 
"  my  grandfather  wanted  a  companion,  somebody  to  manage 
his  house  for  him." 

This  was  rather  a  maladroit  remark.  "His  house  was  not 
so  ill-managed  as  all  that,"  returned  Mrs.  Reeves,  drily  ;  "though 
she  said  it  that  should  not  say  it ;  and  as  to  companions,  he  had 
his  books,  he  had  his  own  writings  and  sermons  ;  had  he  not  as 
much  company  as  he  chose  to  invite  ? — and  was  not  she  always 
willing,  \\iien  he  was  lonely,  to  bring  in  her  knitting,  or  her  iron 
ing,  or  whatever  little  thing  she  was  doing,  if  it  was  only  an 
apple-dumpling  she  was  making,  and  sit  anywhere  he  pleased  ? 
he  might  talk  to  her,  or  let  it  alone,  just  as  he  liked ;  but  he 
never  wn.s,  to  say,  an  affable  sort  of  a  gentleman  at  any  period 
of  his  life  ;  and  since  he  began  to  dabble  in  mortar,  it  had  not 
sweetened  his  temper.  Then  she  hoped  and  trusted  his  new  wife 
would  prove  a  better  match  for  him  than  the  two  who  were  in 
heaven ;  but  perhaps  Master  Reuben  could  tell  her  something 
about  the  young  lady,  as  he  had  come  from  Hereford  where 
she  lived."  » 

Reuben  had  been  apprehensive  it  would  come  to  this,  but 
there  was  no  help  for  it,  so  he  did  his  best  to  commad  his  emo 
tions,  and  being  once  compelled  to  speak  of  Blanche,  he  could 
not  do  so  except  in  terms  the  most  laudatory,  and  even  enthusi 
astic.  In  short,  he  was  warmed  by  the  theme,  and  ended  by  leaving 
Mrs.  Reeves  under  the  satisfactory  conviction  that  if  her  new  mis 
tress  laboured  under  the  disadvantage  of  being  young  and  hand 
some,  she  made  some  amends  for  those  defects  by  being  at  the 
same  time  one  of  the  most  angelic  of  her  sex. 

The  Dean's  house  presented  now  the  edifjang  picture  of  a 
most  diligent  community  ;  the  workmen  busy  from  morn  till 
night  at  the  repairs ;  Reuben  labouring  at  his  catalogue  ;  Mrs. 
5 


98  THE     UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

Reeves  manufacturing  the  fruits  of  the  season  into  jams  and  con 
serves  ;  in  short,  the  bees  were  not  a  more  industrious  common 
wealth.  Catalogue-making  pleased  Reuben,  because  it  not  only 
exercised  his  ingenuity,  but  augmented  his  knowledge  of  the  re 
sources  of  literature.  Reuben  found  numerous  works  in  his 
grandfather's  collection,  of  the  veiy  existence  of  which  he  had 
been  ignorant ;  nay,  he  scarcely  knew  that  there  were  such  sub 
jects  as  they  treated  of.  Among  others  he  found  some  curious 
old  treatises  on  astrology,  which  seduced  him  for  a  day  or  two 
from  his  immediate  pursuit.  While  interested  in  this  idle  study, 
he  covered  whole  sheets  of  paper,  and  all  the  backs  of  his  letters 
with  diagrams,  horoscopes,  and  calculations  of  imaginary  nativ 
ities  according  to  the  rules  which  he  found  in  the  books.  At 
length,  having  exhausted  his  paper,  and  wanting  a  more  extended 
space  for  the  working  of  a  greater  problem  than  he  had  yet  en 
countered,  he  cleared  the  centre  of  the  floor,  drew  his  figures 
and  circles  with  chalk,  and  began  to  realize  to  himself  the  actual 
operations  of  a  cunning  man  of  the  middle  ages.  While  he  was 
occupied  thus,  his  friend  the  carpenter  came  to  him  to  solicit  an 
other  favour,  but  it  was  a  favour  for  the  glazier,  not  for  himself ; 
in  fact,  the  glazier  wanted  to  send  his  Fanny  a  love  letter,  and 
wishing  the  letter  to  be  a  finer  composition  than  he  felt  himself 
equal  to  produce,  the  idea  had  occurred  to  him  of  prevailing  on 
our  hero  to  compose  one  for  him.  The  carpenter  was  indeed  in 
structed  to  say,  that  there  was  little  doubt  of  the  heart  of  Fanny 
yielding  to  the  pen  of  Master  Reuben  Medlicott,  if  he  would 
kindly  lend  his  genius  for  the  occasion,  and  write  the  billet  doux 
with  a  crow-quill.  Reuben  was  interrupted  and  disturbed,  but 
he  was  also  flattered  by  this  request.  The  crow-quill  was  easily 
found  ;%ie  glazier,  with  his  friend  the  carpenter,  attended  in  the 
library  after  the  work  of  the  day,  and  an  epistle  was  written, 
which  (as  Reuben  long  afterwards  confessed),  consisted  for  the 
most  part  of  the  identical  tender  thoughts  and  sentimental 
similies,  which,  arrayed  in  nearly  the  same  words,  had  formed 
the  materials  of  his  letter  to  Blanche  Barsac.  "  The  fact  was," 
he  used  to  say,  in  his  own  excuse,  "  I  was  so  engrossed  by  the 
astrology  that  original  composition  at  the  moment  was  out  of  the 
question."  The  gratitude  of  the  glazier  was  unbounded  ;  but 
give  most  men  an  inch  and  they  will  take  an  ell  if  they  can  get 
it.  The  carpenter  re-appeared  when  Reuben  was  at  breakfast, 
the  next  morning,  and  glancing  knowingly  at  the  figures  and 
spheres  with  which  the  floor  of  the  library  was  covered,  he  ven- 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  99 

tured  to  hint,  after  some  circumlocution,  that  Mr.  Medlicolt  could, 
if  he  pleased,  form  a  tolerably  shrewd  guess  as  to  the  future  for 
tunes  of  the  glazier  and  his  love. 

Though  Reuben  declined  to  pry  into  the  book  of  fate,  even 
for  the  sake  of  comforting  an  affliction  with  which  he  could  not 
but  profoundly  sympathise,  it  did  not  prevent  his  fame  from 
spreading  abroad  for  fortune-telling  as  well  as  letter-writing.  Not 
many  days  elapsed  before  our  magician,  malgr£  lui,  had  two  ap 
plications  made  to  him,  one  for  the  discovery  of  a  cow  which 
had  been  stolen  from  a  poor  farmer,  and  the  second,  in  another 
love  case,  to  divine  the  success  of  a  young  man  in  the  neighbour 
hood  with  Dorothy,  the  gardener's  daughter. 

In  the  middle  of  all  this,  and  in  strict  keeping  with  the  ab 
ruptness  of  everything  connected  with  the  life  and  movements 
of  Dean  Wyndham,  down  came  the  news  of  his  wedding. 

As  it  was  to  be,  it  was  well  it  was  over.  Reuben's  love  was 
now  his  grandmother. 

"  After  all,"  he  said  sensibly  to  himself,  at  the  end  of  a  soli 
tary  walk  which  he  took  to  compose  his  spirits,  "•!  am  only 
eighteen,  and  Blanche  is  twenty-seven ;  she  is  certainly  too  young 
to  be  my  grandmother,  but  she  is  also  too  old  to  be  my  wife." 
The  same  evening  brought  him  a  letter  from  home.  Blanche 
had  written  his  mother  a  charming  letter  a  few  days  before  her 
marriage,  and  sent  her  the  picture  she  had  drawn  of  Reuben, 
which  had  actually  only  required  a  few  finishing  touches,  and 
those  she  had  given  from  memory.  The  picture  pleased  Mrs. 
Medlicott  extremely,  and  it  was  already  placed  over  the  chimney- 
pioce  of  the  dini  rig-parlour,  in  a  frame  much  too  costly  for  what 
it  contained,  considered  as  a  work  of  art. 

When  the  Dean's  wedding  was  noised  abroad,  it  caused  pro 
digious  excitement,  and  as  he  had  sent  Mrs.  Reeves  a  sum  of 
money,  to  promote  a  little  gaiety  on  the  occasion  among  his 
people  at  Westbury,  what  form  that  gaiety  ought  to  take  became 
an  immediate  subject  of  deliberation.  Another  rustic  ball  was 
resolved  on,  and  as  the  moon  was  no  longer  auspicious,  the  bam 
was  selected  for  the  scene  of  festivity.  A  box  of  candles  was 
ordered  from  the  nearest  town,  and  the  carpenters  with  a  few 
hoops  made  some  capital  substitutes  for  chandeliers,  all  under 
Reuben's  directions ;  for,  without  any  formal  appointment,  or 
any  ambition  to  obtain  it,  he  found  himself  installed  in  the  office 
of  masterof  the  revels.  The  walls  had  their  nakedness  handsomely 
dlothed  with  festoons  of  evergreens  and  flowers ;  the  floor  was 


100  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

well  rolled  and  made  as  smooth  as  it  was  possible  to  make  it;  a 
substantial  supper  was  prepared ;  a  hogshead  of  cider  stood  ready 
to  be  broached  ;  all  the  fiddlers  and  pipers  within  reach  were  re 
tained  specially,  and  a  Welsh  harper,  who  was  on  his  way  to  a 
meeting  of  the  bards,  was  induced  to  sojourn  for  the  night,  and 
add  his  contribution  to  the  music.  The  Dean  had  no  idea  of 
such  doings,  or  he  would  never  have  sent  the  donation,  for  there 
was  an  end  of  all  labour  on  the  farm,  and  all  work  within  doors 
for  the  two  days  preceding  iliefefe.  The  greatest  excitement  of 
all,  however,  was  among  the  girls,  wondering  and  discussing 
which  of  them  would  be  honoured  with  Reuben's  hand,  for  the 
ball  would,  of  course,  be  opened  by  him;  and  whether  it  was  a 
nymph  of  the  dairy,  the  garden,  or  the  bedrooms,  it  was  certain 
that  the  honour  of  being  his  partner  would  fall  to  the  lot  of 
somebody. 

All  would  have  gone  well  if  they  had  been  content  with  the 
dancing,  but  Reuben  unluckily  knew  something  about  making 
fire-works,  and  the  moment  the  word  was  mentioned,  it  became 
clear  to  everybody  that  without  fire-works,  the  celebration  of  the 
nuptials  might  as  well  be  abandoned  altogether.  Accordingly 
lo  work  he  went  at  the  pyrotechnics,  and,  aided  by  the  carpenter 
and  glazier,  who  were  now  his  most  devoted  servants,  a  quantity 
of  rockets,  squibs,  crackers,  and  a  few  more  ingenious  devices, 
were  produced  in  a  wonderfully  short  time,  as  there  was  no  dif 
ficulty  about  procuring  gunpowder. 

It  was  arranged  that  the  fire-works  should  precede  the  ball 
and  supper ;  had  it  been  otherwise,  they  might  have  secured 
'ihe  latter  enjoyments  at  all  events;  but  the  fire-works  had  the 
precedence,  and  the  beginning  of  the  display  was  most  success 
ful.  Reuben  let  off  the  rockets  with  his  own  hands,  and  the 
wonder  and  delight  of  everybody  was  at  the  height,  when  an  ex 
clamation  was  heard  that  the  great  hay -rick  had  caught  fire. 
Consternation  soon  took  the  place  of  mirth.  The  rick  was  in  a 
blaze  before  the  nimblest  could  reach  the  yard.  All  that  could 
be  done  to  extinguish  the  flames,  by  putting  up  ladders  and  car 
rying  up  buckets  of  water,  was  done  with  as  much  expedition 
and  activity  as  possible,  but  in  spite  of  every  effort  the  fire  con 
tinued  to  rage,  and  soon  extending  to  other  ricks  and  s  >me  stacks 
of  corn,  threatened  the  entire  of  Dean  Wyndham's  farm-property 
with  destruction.  Reuben  behaved  now  like  a  hero,  if  he  had 
not  acted  before  like  a  philosopher.  His  exertions  were  beyond 
those  of  anybody  else,  except  perhaps  his  friends,  the  mechanics, 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  101 

who  supported  him  as  well  as  men  could  do.  The  utmost,  how 
ever,  that  could  be  effected  was  to  save  the  buildings  and  the 
cattle.  All  the  hay  and  corn  in  the  yard,  with  many  of  the  ag 
ricultural  implements,  were  a- heap  of  ashes  before  the  sun  rose 
the  following  morning;  and  as  to  Reuben,  who  considered  him 
self  the  responsible  person  for  the  calamity,  between  the  toil  he 
underwent,  the  drenching  of  his  clothes,  and  his  mental-suffer 
ings,  when  poor  Mrs.  Reeves  (herself  in  a  pitiable  situation)  put 
him  to  bed  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  he  was  in  the  first 
stage  of  a  high  fever. 


102  THE    UNIVERSAL    v  ENIUS 


BOOK  THE  THIRD. 


"Tls  the  Philosopher,  the  Orator,  the  Poet,  whom  we  may  compare  to  some  first- 
rate  vessel,  which  launches  out  into  the  wide  sea,  and  witli  a  proud  motion  insults  the 
encountering  surges.  We  are  of  the  small-craft,  or  galley  kind.  We  move  chiefly  by 
starts  and  bounds,  according  as  our  motion  is  by  frequent  intervals  renewed.  We  have 
no  great  adventure  in  view,  nor  can  tell  certainly  whither  we  are  bound.  We  under 
take  no  uii»hty  voyage  by  help  of  stars  or  compass,  but  row  from  creek  to  creek,  keep 
up  a  coasting  trade,  and  are  fitted  only  for  fair  weather  and  the  summer  season."— - 
teslury's  Characteristics. 


ARGUMENT. 

THIS  brief  book  is  an  interlude  between  school  and  college.  Returned  to 
quiet  Underwood,  we  shall  make  the  acquaintance  of  some  very  dis 
agreeable,  impertinent,  meddling  and  unconscionable  people,  happy  in 
the  name  of  Pigwidgeon,  the  only  pleasant  thing  about  them.  They 
were  none  of  Reuben's  friends :  hia  parents  brought  them  upon  him — 
his  mother  by  being  so  clever  a  woman,  his  father  by  being  so  easy  a 
man.  In  short,  the  Medlicotts  were  Pigwidgeoned,  and  we  are  not  to 
pity  them,  for  they  brought  the  Pigwidgeoning  on  themselves.  Pigwid- 
geoning  will  prove  to  be  a  social  usage,  nearly  akin  to  sponging,  although 
you  will  hardly  find  the  word  in  the  books  of  synonymes.  Much  is  to  be 
Baid  against  the  practice,  much  also  in  its  defence  and  favour ;  in  particu 
lar  how  it  leads  to  the  development  of  numerous  Christian  graces  and 
excellencies  of  the  human  character.  Doth  it  not  put  into  daily  practice 
the  noble  virtue  of  self-abasement?  Is  not  the  spirit  of  martyrdom  as 
much  evinced  in  suffering  the  snubs  and  rubs,  and  all  the  thousand  ills 
that  sponging  is  heir  to,  as  in  roasting  like  Latimer,  or  being  fried  like 
St.  Lawrence  1  There  are  men  of  such  exemplary  fortitude  as  to  submit 
to  be  roasted  themselves  for  the  sake  of  a  roast  sirloin,  and  make  them 
selves  the  butt  of  the  company  for  a  glass  or  two  of  wine.  What  infinite 
mortifications  abroad  does  not  such  a  man  endure,  nay  court,  which  he 
might  easily  escape  by  dining  selfishly  at  home  upon  a  mutton  chop? 
Can  the  spirit  of  self-devotion  descend  lower,  or  should  we  not  rather 
ask,  can  this  noble  spirit  be  conceived  to  soar  higher  than  this  ?  To  enter 
uugreeted,  to  depart  amidst  general  satisfaction,  to  feel  that  he  is  the  guest 
by  sufferance  of  one  who  is  a  host  of  necessity,  to  know  that  an  evil  eye 
follows  every  motion  of  his  fork,  to  feel  that  a  bailiff  or  tax-gatherer  would 


OK,  THE   COMING  MAN.  103 

receive  a  more  cordial  welcome,  would  make  ambrosia  itself  bitter,  and 
turn  a  very  cup  of  nectar  sour.  How  then  shall  we  ever  enough  sdmire 
the  brave  race  which  encounters  these  manifold  evils  undismayed.  5ow 
strong  must  be  their  social  yearnings?  How  great  the  warmth  within, 
that  counteracts  the  frigid  look,  the  wintry  reception,  the  cold  shoulder  ? 
How  genial  the  glow  of  that  self-hospitality  which  sustains  them  in  the 
arctic  regions  abroad,  to  penetrate  which  they  leave  the  temperate  cli 
mate  of  their  own  fire-sides  with  a  gallantry  like  that  of  our  Parrys  and 
our  Franklins. 

But  this  will  be  found  not  only  a  book  of  tribulations  but  a  book  of 
travels.  There  is  no  room  in  the  Welch  inns  with  our  friends  the  Medli- 
cotts,  the  Hopkinses,  the  Primroses,  and  Winnings.  Reuben  must  have 
his  travelling  physician,  too.  for  he  travels  for  health,  while  the  rest  travel 
for  pleasure— except  the  Vicar,  indeed,  with  whom  it  is  a  matter  of  ne 
cessity,  being  turned  out  of  his  house,  and  in  the  condition  of  the  badger 
whose  hole  has  been  seized  by  the  fox,  or  of  the  eagle,  whose  unguarded 
nest  the  sneaking  weasel  has  invaded.  Reuben  is  popular  in  the  princi 
pality,  where  he  learns  the  Welch  tongue  and  the  Welch  harp,  and  breaks 
the  hearts  of  the  Welch  maidens.  As  to  his  own,  it  is  again  in  some 
slight  danger;  we  shall  now  detect  the  winged  mischief  lurking  in  a 
plump  Quaker's  bonnet  to  launch  another  of  his  frivolous  bolts  at  the 
boy's  heart;  for  there  are  hazards  incidental  to  learning  the  guttural 
Welch  as  well  as  the  liquid  Italian  in  company  with  a  fair  young  friend 
— perils  not  less  formidable  perhaps  than  sitting  for  one's  picture.  Yet 
nothing  serious  is  immediately  to  be  apprehended ;  Reuben  will  prob 
ably  reach  Cambridge  heart-whole. 


CHAPTER  L 

CHAPTER    OP   RETROSPECTS. — REUBEN  IS  BORED;     HIS    PARENTS    ABB 
PIGWIDGEONED. 

LEAVING  the  subject  of  our  history  for  a  short  time  to  the  tender 
care  of  Mrs.  Reeves  and  the  skill  of  Dr.  Page,  the  physician  of  the 
neighbourhood,  we  fly  back  to  Underwood  with  the  alarming 
news  of  Reuben's  illness ;  and  having  arrived  there  it  will  not  be 
amiss  to  put  the  reader  briefly  in  possession  of  what  had  been 
doing  at  the  Vicarage  since  we  left  it  to  go  to  school. 

People  of  passive  character  often  exercise  surprising  influence 
in  domestic  life,  just  as  the  most  yielding  substances,  such  as  a 
snail  or  a  branch  of  fern,  will  often  leave  their  stamps  for  many 
centuries  in  the  solid  rock.  Thus  the  absence  <>f  Reuben  from 
home  made  a  serious  change  at  Underwood.  The  Vicar,  becom 
ing  more  and  more  absorbed  in  his  pinks  and  strawberries,  hav- 


104  THE    UNIVERSAL    GEMUS  | 

ing  no  further  motive  to  keep  up  his  Greek  and  Laid, -was  less  a 
companion  for  his  wife  than  ever,  and  the  little  fund  of  wit  he 
possessed  would  have  become  rusty  indeed  but  for  the  occasional 
burnishing  he  gave  it  when  he  met  a  pleasant  party  at  Mrs.  Win 
ning's,  or  chatted  with  Hannah  Hopkins,  or  a  brother  parson, 
beneath  the  walnut-tree,  or  under  the  mahogany. 

Mrs.  Medlicott's  spirits  had  been  deeply  affected  by  the  sepa 
ration  from  her  son,  and  she  missed,  even  more  than  her  husband, 
the  favourite  and  engrossing  occupation  of  twelve  anxious  years. 
But  she  had  more  consolations  and  resources  than  her  spouse. 
In  the  first  place  she  had  the  solace  of  continually  writing  to  her 
son,  and  receiving  his  dutiful  and  minute  letters;  then  her  mind 
(you  know)  if  it  had  any  fault,  was  only  too  richly  caparisoned; 
and,  lastly,  she  possessed  in  a  very  strong  degree  that  womanly 
yearning  towards  her  species,  which  made  solitude  absolutely  in 
tolerable  to  her,  particularly  in  the  prosecution  of  her  intellectual 
pursuits.  She  had  long  been  an  ardent  phrenologist,  but  now 
she  cultivated  that  subject  with  redoubled  spirit,  pronouncing  it 
decidedly  one  of  the  inductive  sciences,  and  questioning  whether 
Dr.  Spurzheim  was  not  as  illustrious  a  philosopher  as  Sir  Isaac 
Newt  "IT.  Her  great  ally  in  the  prosecution  of  her  craniologica: 
studies  was  a  certain  slovenly,  sycophantic,  gossipping  apothecary, 
of  the  name  of  Pigwidgeon,  father  to  that  interesting  youth  whose 
nl'iMipt  to  appropriate  a  certain  cake  belonging  to  Reuben  was 
related  in  an  early  chapter.  This  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  had  some  re 
putation  for  skill,  and  would  have  had  more  business  if  he  had 
not  been  so  painfully  negligent  of  his  personal  appearance,  and  so 
addicted  to  sponging  upon  his  patients.  He  had  a  tincture  of 
learning,  just  enough  to  pass  for  erudition  with  people  who  were 
not  erudite,  and  being  conceited  in  proportion  to  his  real  ignor 
ance,  he  was  inordinately  vain  of  his  acquaintance  and  intimacy 
with  Mrs.  Medlicott.  though  the  run  of  the  kitchen  was  that  which 
he  still  more  valued.  A  few  years  had  made  considerable  change 
in  the  personal  Appearance  of  his  son  Theodore;  he  looked  as 
much  a  booby  as  ever,  but  he  was  tall,  had  good  features,  a  fresh 
florid  complexion,  abundance  of  black  hair,  and  lively  boisterous 
spirits,  which  made  him  an  insufferable  bore  to  all  who  were  not  for 
some  reason  or  another  excessively  partial  to  him.  The  father  had 
already  announced  his  intention  to  make  a  physician  of  him,  and 
to  show  what  a  natural  genius  he  had  for  that  profession,  Mr. 
Theodore  Pigwidgeon  never  heard  a  complaint  or  disease  men 
tioned,  but  he  had  a  trick  of  exclaiming — "  I  wonder  what's  good 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  105 

for  that."  The  apothecary  pronounced  the  measurements  of  the 
lad's  cranium  magnificent,  and  of  course  predicted  for  him  a  ca 
reer  of  the  most  dazzling  description,  while  the  li  itle  public  of 
Underwood,  on  the  contrary,  relied  upon  Lavater's  system  more 
than  Spurzheim's,  and  the  effect  of  the  father's  over-weeningness 
was  that  the  son  got  only  more  generally  laughed  at,  and  went 
in  derision  by  the  name  of  "  the  Doctor."  Mrs.  Medlicott  was 
one  of  the  few  who  took  young  Pigwidgeon's  part ;  but  com 
manding  intellects  are  the  most  tolerant  of  mental  inferiority  in 
those  about  them ;  besides  the  apothecary  never  pretended  that  the 
Doctors  developments  were  altogether  equal  to  Reuben's,  which 
might  have  excited  a  mother's  jealousy.  Between  Mr.  Pigwid- 
geon,  indeed,  and  Mrs.  Medlicott,  the  great  bond  of  union  was  the 
inexhaustible  subject  of  Reuben's  skull.  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  had 
long  ago  taken  its  measurements  in  due  form,  with  the  brass 
gauge  or  craniometer,  which  he  always  carried  about  him  in  one 
pocket  of  his  coat,  to  balance  the  stethoscope  which  he  carried  in 
the  other,  and  had  made  an  exact  inventory  of  the  organs,  a  copy 
of  which  Mrs.  Medlicott  possessed,  and  nobody  can  conceive  what 
a  comfort  it  was  to  her,  when  the  head  itself  was  no  longe*1  near 
her.  But  with  Pigwidgeon  junior  she  had  other  and  widei  asso 
ciations  ;  her  profound  study  of  the  mind  enabled  her  to  discover 
that  his  seeming  obtuseness  was  only  the  temporary  dormancy 
of  very  respectable  talents,  if  not  of  actual  genius,  and  the  next 
step  brought  her  to  the  point  of  feeling  that  it  was  her  duty  to 
awaken  that  somnolent  state  of  the  brain  of  so  nice  a' young  man 
into  life  and  activity.  Thus  her  didactic  abilities  came  into  play 
again,  just  when  she  was  beginning  to  fear  that  her  maternal 
mission  was  Concluded.  She  now  had  somebody,  or  rather  some 
thing  to  lecture  and  belecture  as  before ;  and  dull,  or  rather  dor 
mant  as  the  Doctor's  faculties  were,  he  was  »ot  insensible  to  the 
honour  of  being  the  pupil  or  fellow-student  of  the  Minerva-like 
matron,  who  laid  herself  out  to  improve  and  develope  him. 

The  first  occasion  upon  which  Reuben  noticed  the  growing 
domestication  of  the  Pig-widgeons  at  the  Vicarage,  was  once  upon 
returning  home  for  the  vacation,  in  the  beginning  of  the  dogdays. 
His  father  happened  not  to  be  at  home  on  his  arrival,  but  his 
mother  seeing  him  approach,  bustled  out  to  receive  him,  and  af 
ter  tenderly  embracing  him  on  the  little- close-shaven  lawn,  led 
him  into  the  cool  shady  room  where  she  had  been  sitting,  and 
•where  Reuben,  not  without  some  surprise,  found  the  apothec&ry's 
son,  with  whom  he  had  never  been  on  intimate  terms,  and  wrpm 
6* 


106  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  , 

of  latejrears  he  had  never  heard  mentioned  wither  t  ridicule, 
Reuben  was  always  shy,  and  young  Pigwidgeon  was  nothing 
short  of  a  lout  in  his  manners.  The  meeting  was  anything  but 
cordial,  nor  were  matters  much  improved  when  Mrs.  Medlicott 
went  about  her  domestic  affairs,  and  left  the  young  men  to  "  en 
tertain  one  another." 

Reuben  hardly  knew  whether  it  was  his  office  to  amuse  Pig- 
widgeon,  -or  Pigwidgeon's  to  amuse  him ;  Reuben  was  at  home 
certainly,  but  really  the  other  looked  very  much  at  home  too,  to 
judge  from  his  unceremonious  dress,  and  the  graceful  New-Eng 
land  freedom  with  which  he  had  extended  his  lubber  length  up 
on  the  only  sofa  in  the  room. 

Pigwidgeon  yawned  and  said  it  was  a  hot  day. 

Reuben  agreed  in  the  briefest  possible  terms. 

The  former  expressed  his  surprise  that  Reuben  did  not  wear 
a  broad-leafed  straw  hat  like  his  own,  as  everybody  did  in  the 
country. 

Reuben  said  he  had  not  got  one,  at  which  capital  jest  Pig- 
widgeon  laughed  in  his  facetious  way,  ho,  ho,  ho,  &c. 

"  How  many  boys  are  there  at  the  school  2" 

"Sixty." 

**  Are  any  of  them  ever  sick  ?" 

"  Sometimes ;  there  was  one  boy  very  bad  with  the  croup 
when  I  left." 

"  I  wonder  what  is  goad  for  that,"  said  the  Doctor. 

The  conversation  ended  as  it  had  begun,  with  Pigwidgeon 
yawning  freely,  after  which  he  got  on  his  legs,  and  said  he  would 
go  and  have  some  strawberries,  at  the  same  time  politely  inviting 
Reuben  to  have  some  too. 

When  Mrs.  Medlicott  returned  she  found  her  son  where  she 
had  left  him,  and  looked  displeased  that  he  had  not  accompanied 
Pigwidgeon  to  the  strawberry  beds.  She  took  that  opportunity 
of  letting  Reuben  know  the  lively  interest  she  felt  in  the  young 
man,  and  expressed  an  anxiety  that  they  should  become  friends 
and  companions. 

Reuben  made  a  dutiful  effort  to  like  Pigwidgeon,  because  his 
mother  was  anxious  about  it,  but  friendship  will  obey  a  mother 
no  better  than  love.  The  thing  was  not  to  be  done.  It  was  out 
of  the  question  to  take  an  interest  in  him,  unless  you  were  en 
gaged,  as  Mrs.  Medlicott  was,  in  developing  his  faculties. 

The  enjoyment  of  several  vacations  was  marred  to  Reuben 
by  the  almost  daily  presence  of  a  booby  whom  he  despised,  but 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN.  107 

• 

from  whoso  society  in  a  limited  rural  circle  there  wis  no  means 
of  escaping.  The  vicar  despised  him  too,  and  though  little  given 
to  be  satirical  on  his  friends  or  his  guests,  could  not  help  making 
himself  merry  now  and  then  in  a  guarded  way  at  Pigwidgeon's 
expense,  particularly  at  his  favourite  exclamation  —  "I  wonder 
what's  good  for  that."  But  neither  father  nor  son  had  the  moral 
courage  to  express  their  sentiments  freely.  They  received  the 
Pigwidgeons  as  a  visitation  of  Providence,  and  submitted  to  it 
with  as  much  fortitude  as  they  could  muster. 

The  only  holidays  Reuben  thoroughly  enjoyed  were  while 
Theodore  Pigwidgeon  was  running  the  London*hospitals,  as  the 
phrase  is;  but  that  stage  in  the  young  man's  medical  education 
only  rendered  him  more  ridiculous  and  offensive  when  he  re 
turned  to  Underwood  after  it.  He  returned  wearing  moustaches, 
turning  down  his  shirt-collar,  and  talking  of  the  eminent  physi 
cians  and  surgeons  of  the  day,  as  if  they  were  his  playmates. 
Reuben  marvelled  how  his  father,  easy  as  he  was,  tolerated  such 
a  creature,  and  as  to  his  mother,  who  actually  admired  him, 
Reuben  could  only  account  for  her  conduct  by  believing  her 
under  the  influence  of  some  possession.  He  now  seldom  enjoyed 
a  ramble  in  the  fields  with  her,  without  the  "  Doctor"  accompa 
nying  or  joining  them.  It  was  Pigwidgeon  who  helped  her 
over  the  stiles,  Pigwidgeon  who  arranged  her  shawl  when  it 
slipped  from  her  shoulders,  Pigwidgeon  who  held  her  spectacles 
when  she  was  energetic,  Pigwidgeon  here,  Pigwidgeon  there, 
Pigwidgeon  everywhere. 

Then  after  the  infliction  of  the  son  for  the  greater  part  of  a 
day,  would  follow  only  too  often  the  visitation  of  the  father  at 
the  close  of  it.  Evening  came  on  anything  but  sweetly  when  it 
brought  the  apothecary  with  it,  and  he  made  himself  particularly 
disagreeable  to  Reuben  by  volunteering  an  opinion  that  his  chest 
was  not  strong,  and  that  playing  the  flageolet  was  not  good  for 
him.  His  parents  had  not  consented  to  his  learning  that  instru 
ment  without  consulting  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  in  the  first  instance. 
The  apothecary  had  then  made  no  objection,  but  when  Reuben 
was  at  home,  our  Pill  Garlic  (who  was  generally  meddling  with 
people's  lungs  when  he  was  not  measuring  their  skulls)  began  to 
change  his  mind,  and  talk  of  sounding  his  chest  with  the  steth 
oscope  one  of  those  days. 

Reuben  was  sent  for  by  his  mother  one  morring,  and  found 
her  seated  under  the  walnut-tree,  reading.  The  book  was  a 
scientific  book  on  the  Diseases  of  the  Chest  and  Lungs,  which 
the  apothecary  had  lent  to  her. 


108  THR    UNIVERSAL    GENIJS  J 

The  following  dialogue  then  took  place : 

"Well,  mother,"  said  Reuben,  sitting  down  at  her  side. 

"What  I  am  about  to  say,"  she  said,  after  preparing  her 
voice  and  assuming  a  serious  manner,  "  is  of  considerable  impor 
lance.  Mr.  Pigwidgeon,  you  must  know,  who  is  very  friendly, 
extremely  skilful,  and  very  much  attached  to  you,  my  dear 
Reuben,  has  been  talking  to  me  a  good  deal  lately  about  the 
state  of  your  chest" 

"  My  chest,  my  dear  mother ! "  exclaimed  Reuben,  not  able 
to  refrain  from  laughing. 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  he  thinks  your  lungs  are  not  quite  as  strong 
as  he  would  wish  them  to  be,  and  as  he  hopes  to  make  them." 

Reuben  again  smiled  at  the  notion  of  anything  being  the 
matter  with  his  lungs.  Well  he  might;  for  nature  had  made 
him  only  too  vigorous  in  that  part  of  his  constitution.  .  • 

Mrs.  Medlicott  took  off  her  spectacles,  and  said  that  medical 
men  were  not  infallible  of  course,  but  that  their  opinions  were 
not  to  be  despised,  particularly  when  it  was  manifest  that  their 
opinions  were  perfeciiy  disinterested. 

"Let  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  be  ever  so  disinterested,  mother,  and 
ever  so  skilful,  I  am  not  the  less  satisfied  that  there's  nothing 
amiss  with  my  lungs.  What  could  have  put  such  a  notion  into 
his  strange  head  ? " 

"  I  trust  you  are  right,  my  dear  Reuben  ;  but  I  hope  you  will 
not  be  obstinate  on  a  matter  of  such  vital  importance.  I  am 
sure,  Reuben,  you  would  even  make  some  little  sacrifice  to  make 
my  mind  easy." 

"  I  conclude,  mother,"  replied  Reuben,  "  you  wish  me  to 
submit  to  be  stethoscoped  ;  if  so,  you  shall  be  gratified,  although 
the  prospect  of  undergoing  that,  or  any  other  operation  at  Mr. 
Pigwidgeon's  hands,  is  not  the  most  agreeable  in  the  world." 

"  I  was  not  alluding  merely  to  the  stethoscope,"  replied  Mrs. 
Medlicott,  a  little  drily  ;  "  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  has  his  doubts  whether 
playing  the  flageolet  is  good  for  you." 

"  Really,  mother,"  said  Reuben,  standing  up,  "  this  is  too 
bad  ;  who  asked  his  opinion  on  the  subject  ?  When  people  want 
opinions  on  their  lungs  they  don't  consult  country  apothecaries." 

"Theodore  fully  concurs  with  him,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott. 

"  Which,  I  am  sure,  mother,"  cried  Reuben,  with  unusua.1 
impatience,  "  adds  very  little  weight  to  his  authority.  Mr, 
Theodore  Pigwidgeou  is  neither  a  doctor  nor  an  apothecary — as 
yet" 


OE,  THE  COMING  MAN.  109 

Mrs.  Medlicott  was  greatly  displeased  at  the  toi  e  taken  by 
her  son,  but  she  commanded  her  feelings ;  and  the  interview 
ended  by  Reuben's  amiable  consent  to  have  his  chest  examined, 
feeling,  indeed,  too  confident  in  the  soundness  of  his  lungs  to  be 
apprehensive  about  the  result. 

There  was  one  spot  in  the  garden  which  Reuben  in  his  ima 
ginative  boyhood  had  always  thought  the  prettiest,  and  where  it 
had  been  his  wont  in  the  days  of  domestic  instruction  often  to 
establish  himself  in  fine  weather,  with  the  birds  warbling  and 
hopping  about  him,  the  flowers  scenting  the  air,  and  the  butter 
flies  sometimes,  perching  on  his  books.  There  was  a  rustic  bench 
fixed  there,  and  a  massive  round  table,  of  the  same  rough  con 
struction,  which  answered  the  purposes  of  study  and  occasionally 
those  of  tea.  A  few  evenings  after  the  conversation  with  his 
mother  which  we  have  just  related,  Reuben,  entering  this 
favourite  spot,  found  his  father  and  the  apothecary  there,  sipping 
something,  he  knew  not  what,  only  that  the  drinking-vessels 
were  not  tea-cups.  The  sweet  smell  of  the  garden  was  lost  in 
the  vapour  of  the  negus  or  the  toddy.  His  bower  was  turned 
into  a  sort  of  cabaret.  The  circular  marks  of  the  glasses  were 
visible  all  over  the  rustic  table,  as  you  see  them  in  the  casinos 
and  suburban  tea-gardens. 

When  Reuben  appeared,  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  shuffled  about, 
invited  him  to  take  a  seat  by  his  side — a  civility  which  Reuben 
declined  with  the  driest  acknowledgment,  for  nobody  ever  sat  by 
the  side  of  the  apothecary  who  could  avoid  it.  He  smelled  of 
senna  in  the  morning,  and  of  tobacco  in  the  evening  ;  besides  he 
took  snuff  in  enormous  quantities,  and  scattered  it  about  him  so 
liberally  in  the  act,  that  it  was  almost  impossible  to  be  in  the 
same  house  with  him  without  continually  sneezing.  Reuben 
was  turning  away  to  seek  his  mother,  when  she  saved  him  that 
trouble  by  appearing  at  the  moment,  attended,  as  usual,  by  her 
medical  student.  Tea  was  ordered  in  the  bower,  and  while  it 
was  preparing,  the  apothecary  fumbled  in  his  pockets,  produced 
his  stethoscope,  and  said  it  was  a  very  good  opportunity  for 
making  a  little  examination  of  Reuben's  chest.  Reuben  sub 
mitted  with  as  much  patience  as  he  could  muster,  while  his 
mother  stood  by,  looking  on  with  the  greatest  interest  and 
anxiety,  and  watching  the  apothecary's  countenance,  to  try  to 
find  out  what  opinion  he  was  forming  as  he  proceeded  with  his 
soundings.  The  Vicar  had  taken  up  a  newspaper,  and  paid  no 
attention  whatsoever  to  what  was  going  forward.  When  M» 


110  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  | 

Pig\\iclgeon  was  done  he  pronounced  the  sort  c/  ambiguous 
judgment  so  commonly  pronounced  by  medical  practitioners — 
that  there  was  nothing,  he  hoped,  decidedly  wrong  about  the 
lungs,  but  that  there  were  indications  of  weakness  which  he 
thought  ought  not  to  be  neglected  ;  he  might,  however,  be  mis 
taken,  and,  as  two  Iftads  were  better  than  one,  he  wished  his  son 
would  take  the  stethoscope,  and  say  what  he  thought  on  the 
subject.  This  was  too  much  for  Reuben's  patience,  amiable  as  he 
was.  When  the  Doctor,  with  his  usual  "  ho,  ho,"  took  the 
instrument  and  advanced  to  manipulate  him,  he  repelled  him 
with  very  little  ceremony,  and  the  Vicar  at  the  same  time 
looking  up  from  his  paper,  was  evidently  pleased  to  see  an  end 
put  to  operations  which  he  considered  absurd  and  superfluous. 

Young  Pigwidgeon  himself  seemed  to  mind  the  repulse  ex 
ceedingly  little  ;  his  attention  was  strongly  solicited  at  this  mo 
ment  by  the  cakes  and  the  fruits  with  which  the  maids  were 
spreading  the  tea-table,  and  he  laid  the  stethoscope  aside  with  a 
"  ho  !  ho !"  as  he  took  it  up  ;  but  the  paternal  vanity  of  the  apothe 
cary  was  visibly  wounded,  and  he  was  as  bitter  as  rhubarb  the 
rest  of  the  evening,  though  he  was  not  less  devoted  than  his  son 
to  the  repast  before  him.  Indeed,  even  if  the  Doctor  had  been 
ever  so  angry  with  Reuben  for  the  disrespect  shown  to  his  medi 
cal  skill,  the  redoubled  favours  of  Mrs.  Medlicott  would  have 
amply  compensated  him,  for  she  made  him  sit  by  her  side,  and, 
loading  him  at  the  same  time  with  compliments  and  other  sweets 
of  a  more  substantial  nature,  effectually  prevented  him  from  fall 
ing  the  tenth  of  an  inch  in  his  own  estimation. 

Another  circumstance,  which  occurred  at  a  later  period,  and 
arose  out  of  the  incident  just  related,  tended  still  more  decidedly 
to  generate  a  malignant  feeling  towards  Reuben  in  the  mind  of 
the  elder  Pigwidgeon,  though  the  animal  interests  he  had  in 
maintaining  friendly  relations  with  the  Vicar  and  his  family  made 
him  very  careful  not  to  display  his  real  sentiments.  The  maga 
zine  has  been  mentioned  which  Reuben  and  his  friend  Primrose 
established  at  Hereford.  On  the  return  of  the  former  to  school, 
after  the  annoyance  which  he  had  experienced  from  the  apothe 
cary  and  the  stethoscope,  he  entertained  his  nimble-witted  friend 
with  an  account  of  the  affair,  and  gave  him  a  description  of  Mr. 
Pigwidgeon,  which  Primrose  thought  so  comical  that  he  made  it 
the  subject  of  an  article  in  the  next  number  of  the  periodical. 
The  paper  was  entitled  "A  Portrait  of  a  Country  Apothecary," 
and,  except  that  the  name  was  changoi,  nobody  who  had  ever 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN.  1H 

seen  the  subject  of  it  could,  without  extraordinary  obtuseness, 
have  mistaken  the  aim  of  the  writer.  The  magazine  went  down 
to  Underwood  as  usual,  for  Mrs.  Medlicott  had  made  Reuben 
promise  to  send  it  to  her  regularly.  It  was  winter  ;  dinner  was 
over ;  the  Vicar  and  his  wife,  the  apothecary  and  his  son,  formed 
a  small  semicircle  about  the  fire  (not,  however,  to  the  exclusion 
f  a  table  with  a  bottle  of  port  upon  it,  and  a  plate  of  walnuts), 
when  what  should  arrive  but  the  packet  from  Hereford,  with  the 
last  new  number  of  the  "Mirror,"  for  so  the  magazine  was  desig 
nated.  The  apothecary  was  the  first  to  petition  most  earnestly 
for  a  specimen  of  Master  Reuben's  essays  in  polite  literature,  but 
the  paper  entitled  the  "  Country  Apothecary,"  looked  so  piquant 
that  the  Vicar  said  they  must  have  that  first,  and  the  Pigwid- 
geons  were  equally  anxious  to  have  it. 

The  Doctor  was  the  reader  upon  such  occasions ;  he  read  as 
if  he  had  a  walnut  in  his  mouth,  and  was  not  very  punctilious 
about  the  stops,  but  Mrs.  Medlicott  said  he  read  with  feeling,  and 
there  was  nobody  to  dispute  her  opinion.  He  had  not  read  a 
couple  of  pages  before  the  Medlicotts  were  horribly  alive  to  the 
design  of  the  paper ;  neither  of  them  dared  to  look  at  the  apothe 
cary,  or  they  might  have  seen  by  the  contortions  of  his  strange 
physiognomy  that  he  too  shrewdly  guessed  who  had  sat  for  the 
picture.  Nor  did  they  venture  to  stop  the  reader,  much  as  they 
burned  to  do  so,  while  he,  being  too  dull  to  perceive  anything  in 
the  world  less  palpable  than  a  door-post,  mouthed  the  libel  upon 
his  father  to  the  last  syllable,  and  laid  the  paper  down  with  a 
protracted  yawn,  by  way  of  a  general  critique,  whick  was  proba 
bly  a  very  just  one  upon  the  performance. 

The  letters  H.  P.  however  were  subscribed  to  the  article  ;  that 
was  the  only  comfort  the  Medlicotts  had,  for  they  did  not  enter 
tain  the  slightest  doubt  that  the  apothecary  had  recognised  his 
own  image  in  the  "  Mirror." 

Let  this  be  no  disparagement  to  Mr.  Pigwidgeon's  merits  as 
a  hypocrite  of  considerable  ability,  or,  perhaps,  we"  should  rather 
say,  as  a  sensible  man  of  the  world,  for  he  was  never  louder  in 
his  flatteries  of  Reuben  than  he  was  that  same  evening ;  and  the 
better  to  mask  what  probably  passsed  in  his  mind,  he  made  no 
change  in  his  conduct,  but  continued  to  drop  in  at  the  Vicarage 
in  his  usual  unceremonious  fashion,  to  dine  one  day  and  sup 
another,  just  as  if  nothing  had  happened  to  hurt  his  feelings. 

This  state  of  things  continued  up  to  the  period  of  Reuben's 
illness  at  his  grandfather's  country-house,  when  the  paternal  pride 


112  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

of  the  apothecary  received  another  blow  which  he  did  not  stom 
ach  so  easily  as  the  wound  to  his  amour  propre. 


CHAPTER  IL 

REUBEN'S  RECOVERY  AND  THE  JOY  IT  OCCASIONED. 

"THE  young  incendiary !"  said  the  Vicar,  when  he  heard  of  the 
events  at  Westbury. 

Mrs.  Reeves  was  slow  at  writing  and  walking,  but  she  had 
employed  the  parish  clerk  to  write  to  Underwood,  and  had  thus 
informed  Reuben's  parents  of  his  serious  illness  and  the  causes- 
that  led  to  it.  The  same  letter  mentioned  that  the  best  medical 
advice  in  the  neighbourhood  had  been  provided,  which  was  that 
of  a  Doctor  Page,  who  turned  out  to  be  an  old  acquaintance  of 
Mr.  Medlicott's. 

The  Vicar  was  unable  to  leave  home  at  the  time,  owing  to 
the  pressure  of  his  pastoral  duties,  so  the  anxious  mother  deter 
mined  to  set  out  immediately.  While  she  was  making  her  little 
preparations,  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  dropped  in,  and  no  sooner  did  he 
hear  of  Reuben's  illness,  and  Mrs.  Medlicott's  intended  journey, 
than  he  proffered  the  services  of  his  son  to  accompany  her  to 
Westbury,  and  save  the  expense  of  a  regular  physician.  The 
escort  would  "have  been  extremely  agreeable,  but  with  all  Mrs. 
Medlicott's  high  opinion  of  her  friend  Theodore,  her  regard  for  her 
son  Avas  too  strong  to  allow  her  to  think  seriously  for  a  moment 
of  the  latter  part  of  the  apothecary's  proposal.  It  placed  her, 
however,  in  a  difficulty,  which  she  tried  to  evade  by  thanking  the 
father,  and  saying  that  "  the  company  of  Theodore  would  no 
doubt  be  a  great  comfort  to  her  on  the  road." 

"  And  a  greater  comfort  to  you,"  said  Pigwidgeon, "  when  you 
come  to  the  end  of  your  journey." 

"  What  do  you  allude  to  ?"  asked  the  Vicar,  who  just  came  in. 
at  the  moment  and  only  heard  the  last  words. 

Mrs.  Medlicott  repeated  the  offer  which  the  apothecary  had  so 
kindly  made. 

"  It  will  save  you  some  guineas,  let  me  tell  you,"  said  Pig- 
widgeon,  accompanying  the  coarse  speech  with  an  equally  coarse 
action,  a  little  punch  under  the  ribs  with  his  forefinger. 


OR,  THE   COMTNG   MAN.  113 

The  words  and  the  action  tog-other  made  the  Vicar  forget 
himself  for  a  mornout,  and  he  thanked  Mr.  1'igwidgeon  in  a  man 
ner  so  little  gracious  that  it  provoked  from  that  gentleman  a  still 
less  becoming  observation  on  the  slight  to  his  son's  medical  skill, 
which  he  said  he  could  not  but  take  as  a  slight  to  himself.  The 
Vicar  replied  as  softly  as  he  could  that  it  was  nonsense  to  say  he 
had  offered  a  slight  to  either  father  or  son ;  at  all  events  he  had 
meant  to  do  no  such  thing ;  he  felt  that  Mr.  Pigwidgeon's  propo 
sition  was  a  very  kind  one,  but  he  could  not  think  of  putting  his 
son  to  the  trouble  and  expense  of  such  a  journey,  particularly  as 
Reuben  was  fortunately  already  in  the  hands  of  a  very  skilful 
local  physician,  his  old  friend  Dr.  Page. 

Directly  the  Vicar  named  this  gentleman  he  saw  that  it  had 
the  same  effect  upon  the  apothecary  that  oil  has  upon  fire.  Mr. 
Pigwidgeon  had  evidently  some  bitter  personal  enmity  to  the 
physician  of  Westbury,  for  he  lost  the  command  of  his  temper 
when  he  was  mentioned,  and  went  away  in  high  dudgeon,  say 
ing  as  he  went  "that  his  son  Theodore-,  although  he  had  not  got 
his  diploma,  had  more  knowledge  in  his  little  finger  than  a 
whole  college  of  Dr.  Pages ;  he  called  Page  twenty  quacks  and 
mountebanks ;  vowed  he  would  not  trust  him  with  the  life  of  a 
kitten,  much  less  the  life  of  one  of  his  children ;  but  he  had  done 
his  duty,  and  now  he  washed  his  hands  of  it." 

This  was  a  favourite  phrase  with  Pigwidgeon,  and  nobody 
could  hear  him  use  it,  without  wishing  him  to  perform  the  opera 
tion  literally,  for  his  hands  always  looked  as  if  they  required 
washing  extremely,  though  this  was  in  some  measure  owing  to 
the  colour  of  the  skin  which  was  precisely  that  which  arises  from 
a  chronic  neglect  of  soap  and  water. 

Mrs.  Medlicott  left  the  Vicarage  that  night,  not  even  taking 
a  maid  with  her,  for  she  was  not  one  of  those  women  who  can 
do  nothing  for  themselves,  and  the  Vicar's  small  means  made 
even  a  small  increase  of  expense  a  matter  of  serious  consideration. 
At  starting  she  was  the  only  inside  passenger,  but  the  coach 
stopped  at  Mrs.  Winning's  gate  and  took  in  two  gentlemen. 
Mrs.  Medlicott  recognised  neither  of  them;  indeed  it  was  too 
dark  to  distinguish  their  faces,  even  if  they  had  been  old  acquaint 
ances.  They  were  polite  to  her;  left  the  best  seat  to  her  exclu 
sive  occupation,  but  only  conversed  with  one  another.  They  had 
been  laughing  before  they  entered  the  coach,  and  they  were  still 
in  the  same  vein,  whatever  it  was  that  diverted  them,  and  this 
was  not  very  long  a  secret  from  their  fair  fellow  traveller,  for  the 
elder  said  to  the  younger — 


114  THE    UNIVERSAL    GEXIUS  ] 

"Of  all  the  preposterous  marriages  I  ever  heard  of,  this  of 
Dean  Wyndharn  is  the  most  preposterous.  There  is  an  account 
of  it  in  the  '  Times'  of  yesterday,  copied  from  the  '  Hereford  Ex 
press' — why  the  Dean  must  be  near  seventy." 

"  So  they  say." 

"  You  know  him,  I  think." 

u  1  have  often  met  him,  but  I  can't  say  I  know  him  ;  he  keeps 
fellows  like  me, at  an  awful  distance.  There  was  a  grandson  of 
his  at  Finchley,  a  great  friend  of  mine.  We  were  all  intimate 
with  those  Barsacs.  Your  nephew  George,  Primrose,  Mecllicott, 
and  myself,  were  invited  to  all  their  balls ; — but  you  have  not 
heard  the  most  amusing  circumstance  about  the  marriage  in 
question." 

"No!" 

".Medlicott,  I  hear,  was  in  love  with  the  girl  who  turned  out 
to  be  his  grandfather's  flame,  and  who  is  now  of  course  his  grand 
mother." 

"  Capital !" 

"  The  girl  herself  may  have  behaved  indiscreetly,  but  I  have 
no  doubt  my  susceptible  friend  acted  as  sentimental  and  soft  a 
part  as  possible." 

"  With  his  grandfather's  example  before  his  eyes,  what  less 
could  he  do  ?" 

"  Yet  Medlicott  is  a  very  clever  and  promising  fellow ;  too 
clever  in  fact;  'tis  almost  the  only  fault  he  has." 

"  He  takes  that  from  his  mother.  Do  you  know  her  ?  Very 
blue,  I  am  told." 

"Blue  as  Minerva,"  said  the  younger. 

Here  Reuben's  mother,  who  had  been  listening  to  the  dia 
logue  with  the  greatest  interest  and  curiosity,  gave  a  little  cough, 
which  whether  intended  to  be  admonishing  or  not,  had  the  effect 
of  recalling  the  attention  of  her  companions  to  her  presence,  and 
suggesting  the  imprudence  of  carrying  their  personal  remarks 
further.  Indeed  the  conversation  ceased  at  this  point ;  the  elder 
gentleman  (who  was  Sir  John  de  Tabley,  uncle  to  the  young  epi 
cure  of  Finchley)  drew  out  a  sort  of  travelling  night-cap  and  sank 
into  his  corner  where  he  soon  fell  asleep.  Henry  Winning  who 
sat  opposite  the  lady,  folded  his  arms  and  probably  courted 
repose  also.  In  a  few  minutes  Mrs.  Medlicott  was  the  only  wak 
ing  person  of  the  three ;  she  would  probably  not  have  slept  a 
great  deal  under  any  circumstances,  but  in  addition  to  her  former 
anxieties  about  Reuben,  the  conversation  she  had  just  heard  gave 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  115 

her  fresh  grounds  of  uneasiness  upon  his  account.  Towards 
morning,  however,  she  yielded  a  little  to  slumber  herself,  for  ma 
ternal  solicitude  will  sometimes  nod  as  well  as  the  father  of 
poetry,  and  when  she  awoke  she  was  the  only  passenger  in  the 
coach.  She  reached  Westbury  greatly  fatigued,  on  the  evening 
of  the  second  day  of  her  journey,  from  which  it  may  safely  be 
inferred  that  England  was  not  covered  with  railways  at  the  period 
of  our  story,  as  it  is  in  the  days  we  live  in. 

Reuben  was  still  seriously  ill,  but  had  already  been  pronounced 
out  of  danger.  The  sleep  in  which  his  mother  found  him,  when 
she  first  entered  his  room,  would  alone  have  satisfied  her  that  he 
had  got  through  the  worst  of  the  attack.  She  knelt  down  at  the 
side  of  his  bed,  and  thanked  Heaven  for  his  preservation  ;  then 
went  down  to  the  library  to  write  immediately  to  her  husband, 
and  in  the  library  she  found  Dr.  Page.  He  was  standing  gazing 
at  the  circles  and  figures  which  still  remained  on  the  floor  where 
Reuben  had  traced  them,  and  Mrs.  Reeves  was  at  his  elbow  mak 
ing  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  explain  the  doctrines  of  judicial 
astrology. 

As  Mrs.  Medlicott  was  accustomed  to  country  doctors,  she  was 
less  surprised  at  Dr.  Page's  exterior  than  if  she  had  spent  her  life 
in  London.  You  might  have  taken  him  for  a  farmer,  or  a  horse- 
jockey,  but  he  was  as  little  like  a  doctor  as  possible,  unless  indeed 
the  veterinary  art  was  his  branch  of  the  profession.  He  was  a 
short,  florid,  confident  man,  with  a  good  expression  of  counte 
nance,  but  forward  and  blunt  manners ;  it  was  his  dress,  however, 
that  would  have  led  you  astray  as  to  his  profession,  for  he  wore 
a  short  green  coat  with  gilt  buttons,  waistcoat  and  breeches  of 
white  cord,  a  crimson  silk  cravat,  and  gaiters  of  yellow  buckskin 
which  came  up  to  his  knees — a  costume  which  nobody  surely 
would  adopt  at  a  masquerade  if  he  intended  to  impersonate  a 
physician.  However,  as  "  honour  peereth  through  the  meanest 
habit,"  so  do  knowledge  and  skill  through  any  habiliments,  how 
ever  singular ;  and  Dr.  Page  had  not  been  five  minutes  in  com 
pany  with  Mrs.  Medlicott  before  he  convinced  her  that  he  was  a 
man  of  sense  and  experience,  whose  confidence  in  himself  was 
not  without  good  grounds,  though  perhaps  a  little  too  osten 
tatious. 

"Madam,"  said  Page,  making  a  low  and  too  flourishing 
obeisance  to  the  lady  as  she  entered,  "I  should  have  been  most 
happy  to  have  saved  you  the  fatigue  of  your  long  journey,  but 
that  was  out  of  my  power.  I  did  my  best>  with  the  assistance  of 


116  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  | 

Mrs.  Reeves,  to  make  your  trouble  superfluous,  but  you  won't  be 
displeased  with  us  for  that,  particularly  when  I  have  the  pleasure 
of  adding  that  we  have  succeeded  in  our  endeavours,  and  that 
your  amiable,  talented,  and  accomplished  son  has  decidedly  turned 
the  corner." 

"Believe  me,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott,  "my  husband  and  I 
will  never  forget  your  services  to  our  dear  boy  upon  this  occasion. 
Under  Heaven  we  are  indebted  to  you  for  his  life  ;  but  unless  I 
could  make  you  conceive  all  a  mother's  feelings,  I  should  fail  to 
convey  all  a  mother's  gratitude. " 

"  I  have  had  the  greater  pleasure, "  replied  the  Doctor,  "  in 
affording  your  son  the  benefit  of  such  little  skill  as  I  possess,  be 
cause,  from  what  Mrs.  Reeves  informs  me,  I  am  inclined  to  believe 
that  I  had  formerly  the  pleasure  of  enjoying  his  father's  friendship." 

"  My  husband  was  struck  by  the  name  of  Page, "  said  Mrs. 
Medlicott ;  "  I  am  delighted  indeed  to  find  that  you  are  his  old 
acquaintance  and  schoolfellow. " 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  rejoined  the  rural  doctor,  "Page  and  Medli 
cott  were  Pylades  and  Orestes  ;  his  vocation  was  the  cure  of  souls, 
mine  was  the  cure  of  bodies  ;  we  took  different  courses  ;  he  sailed 
east,  and  I  sailed  west ;  but  he  was  the  wiser  fellow  of  the  two, 
for  he  had  the  sense  and  the  taste  to  pick  up  a  companion  on  his 
voyage,  and  I  must  say  he  could  not  have  made  a  discreeter  choice." 

Mrs.  Medlicott  was  too  weary  to  do  more  than  smile  languidly 
in  reply  to  this,  while  she  threw  herself  into  the  nearest  chair. 
The  Doctor  took  the  hint,  became  practical  in  a  moment,  apolo 
gised  for  having  kept  her  standing  so  long,  prescribed  a  cup  of 
tea  and  an  early  bed,  and  after  giving  some  brief  directions  to 
Mrs.  Reeves,  made  another  nourishing  bow  and  took  his  leave  for 
the  night. 

It  was  a  short  illness,  but  a  tedious  convalescence.  Several 
weeks  elapsed  before  Reuben's  strength  was  restored  even  enough 
to  enable  him  to  walk  down  with  his  mother  to  the  farm-yard, 
and  give  her  the  details  of  the  conflagration.  The  Dean  had 
gone  to  Switzerland  immediately  after  his  wedding.  He  was  at 
Frankfort  when  the  news  reached  him  of  the  memorable  manner 
in  which  his  grandson  had  celebrated  his  nuptials ;  and  whether 
it  was  that  distance  made  him  less  sensitive  to  the  loss  he  sus 
tained,  or  that  his  young  wife  softened  his  feelings,  or  that  the 
damage  was  covered  by  a  fair  insurance,  he  surprised  everybody 
by  the  patience  with  which  he  bore  the  consequences  of  Reuben's 
indiscretion. 


OK,  THE   CuMING  MAN.  117 

"If  it  had  been  the  library,"  said  the  Dean,  "I  never  should 
have  forgiven  him." 

This  was  the  harshest  observation  he  made,  or,  it  least,  the 
harshest  that  was  reported  in  England.  From  one  of  Mrs.  Wynd- 
ham's  letters,  it  appeared  that  he  was  sometimes  even  jocular  upon 
the  subject,  and  observed  that  his  grandson  had  very  early  begun 
to  illuminate  the  world. 

If  Mrs.  Medlicott  was  not  surprised  at  the  popularity  of  Reu 
ben  with  everybody  at  Westbury,  it  must  at  all  events -have  de 
lighted  her.  Wherever  she  went  she  heard  nothing  but  the 
praises  of  his  amiable  disposition,  and  his  various  talents  and  ac 
complishments.  She  received  congratulations  from  everybody  on 
being  the  mother  of  such  a  clever  son.  It  was  the  universal 
opinion  that  there  had  never  been  such  a  wonderful  patient,  such 
a  wonderful' fever,  or  such  a  wonderful  recovery.  The  .young 
carpenter  and  the  sentimental  glazier  took  care  to  throw  them 
selves  in  her  way,  and  give  vent  to  their  feelings ;  while  Dorothy, 
the  gardener's  daughter,  with  her  flowers  and  fruits,  Jenny  of  the 
dairy,  with  her  creams,  and  Molly,  the  sub-henwife,  with  her 
new-laid  eggs,  more  than  satisfied  Mrs.  Medlicott  that  Reuben 
stood  as  well  as  it  was  desirable  that  any  young  man  should  stand 
with  his  fellow  creatures  of  the  softer  sex.  Finally,  Dr.  Page  pro 
nounced  the  highest  possible  eulogium  upon  our  accomplished 
hero, — 

"  Madam, "  said  he  to  Mrs.  Medlicott,  "  until  I  knew  your  son, 
I  always  thought  myself  a  cleverer  man  than  my  patients,  but, 
by  Jove,  since  I  have  attended  him,  I  have  come  to  the  conclu 
sion  that  the  patient  is  a  cleverer  fellow  than  the  doctor.  He 
talks  like  an  angel,  ma'am  ;  by  Jove  he  does.  He'll  astonish  the 
world  some  of  those  days. " 

"  I  do  so  wish  you  were  settled  in  our  neighbourhood,  Dr. 
Page,  "  replied  the  gratified  mother. 

"  You  would  see  a  great  deal  of  me  at  the  Vicarage,  madam, 
if  I  were, "  replied  the  Doctor. 

"We  could  never  see  too  much,  sir,"  said  the  lady;  "but  per 
haps,  when  my  husband  comes  to  take  us  home,  which,  now  that 
Reuben  is  so  strong,  will  be  in  a  few  days,  he  will  be  able  to  in 
duce  you  to  accompany  us  back  to  Underwood,  and  pay  us  a 
short  visit." 

"  That  I  shall  do  with  pleasure,  madam,"  said  the  Doctor ; 
"but  until  your  husband  arrives,  I  must  insist  upon  your  being 
my  guest,  for  I  perceive  that  the  painters  are  approaching  this 


118  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

side  of  the  house,  and  the  smell  of  the  paint  would  not  acceler 
ate  my  young  friend's  recovery." 

"  We  are  very  thankful  to  you,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott 
"  Not  at  all,"  said  Page,  "  I  am  only  prescribing  sweet  air  for 
you ;  you  will  find  my  bachelor's  house  fresh  and  clean  at  all 
events ;  only  tell  your  son  not  to  expect  such  a  library  as  he  has 
here,  for  I  have  only  three  books  in  the  world, — a  Bible,  a  Shaks- 
peare,  and  the  Pharinocopceia." 


CHAPTER  IIL 

A  BOLD  STROKE  .FOE  A  DINNER. — HOW  THE  APOTHECARY  GOT   BACK  TO 
THE  VIOAEAGE,  AND  HOW  HE  TURNED  THE  VIOAR  OUT  OF  IT. 

MRS.  MEDLICOTT  had  very  little  notion  of  the  state  of  things  at 
the  Vicarage  when  she  was  inviting  Dr.  Page  to  pay  her  a  visit. 
The  Pigwidgeons  seemed  to  have  been  placed  by  Providence  in 
the  parish  of  Underwood  to  be  the  plague  of  the  Vicar's  lifr ;  for 
as  to  his  wife  she  was  no  more  to  be  pitied  than  people  ir  gen 
eral  are  who  bring  their  own  troubles  on  themselves. 

For  a  considerable  time  after  his  wife  left  him  the  Vicar  v 
little  or  nothing  of  his  friend  the  apothecary.  In  nourishing  L  .s 
resentment  so  long,  Mr.  Pigwicjgeon  was  probably  not  more  in 
fluenced  by  his  wounded  feelings,  than  by  the  consideration  that 
during  the  serious  illness  of  Reuben,  and  the  absence  of  the  mo 
ther  of  the  family,  there  was  likely  to  be  a  suspension,  or  at  least 
a  marked  diminution  of  the  good  cheer  which  no  man  loved  bet 
ter  than  he  did,  when  it  was  not  at  his  own  expense.  Once  or  twice 
during  this  period,  Mr.  Medlicott  met  Pigwidgeon  about  the  neigh 
bourhood  accompanied  by  two  dumpy  red-faced  daughters  of  his, 
treasures  which  the  Vicar  knew  the  apothecary  possessed,  for  he 
had  christened  them,  but  he  had  scarcely  ever  seen  them  since 
that  ceremony,  the  young  ladies  having  been  at  an  economical 
school  in  Yorshire,  from  which  they  were  now  just  returned.  No 
thing  could  well  be  colder  than  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  was  upon  these 
occasions ;  his  voice  was  husky  when  he  enquired  for  Reuben, 
and  he  looked  as  bitter  as  if  it  would  have  been  a  satisfaction  to 
him  to  have  heard  of  some  serious  mistake  made  by  Dr.  Page  in 
his  treatment  of  the  case.  The  Vicar  was,  indeed,  beginning  to 


OK,  THE   COMING   MAN.  119 

thint  that  the  breach  was  irreparable  ;  sometimes  he  would  re 
proach  himself  with  having  unnecessarily  wounded  the  self-love 
of  an  old  acquaintance ;  then  again  he  would  sum  up,  as  he 
worked  in  his  garden,  or  sat  at  his  solitary  meals,  the  advantages 
and  disadvantages  of  Mr.  Pigwidgeon's  friendship,  the  balance  be 
ing  always  of  a  nature  to  console  him  under  the  apprehension  of 
having  offended  past  reconciliation. 

"While  he  was  musing  on  this  very  point  one  morning  after  his 
breakfast,  walking  about  his  garden,  he  heard  a  smart  tap  at  the 
green  door  in  the  hedge.  Opening  it  with  reasonable  haste,  he 
found  that  his  visitor  was  the  Rural  Dean  of  his  district,  who. 
was  on  his  tour  of  inspection,  and  who  made  it  a  rule  to  dine  at 
Underwood  whenever  he  came  there — a  rule  which  Mr.  Barber  ex 
tended  to  most  of  the  parsonages  whk-h  he  visited  in  his  peregri 
nations.  The  Vicar  was  a  hospitable  little  fellow  to  the  extent 
of  his  means,  even  when  he  was  in  mental  trouble,  as  he  was  at 
present ;  accordingly,  after  the  transaction  of  some  trifling  busi 
ness  with  Mr.  Barber,  he  went  through  the  usual  and  expected 
formality  of  inviting  him  to  dinner,  adding  that  there  was  a  bed 
for  him  also,  if  it  would  suit  his  convenience  to  accept  it.  The  e 
preliminaries  settled,  Mr.  Medlicott  begged  his  guest  to  excuse  him 
during  a  short  absence,  and  after  warning  his  cook-maid  that  in 
creased  activity  would  be  necessary  that  day  in  her  province,  he 
sallied  forth  into  the  village  to  provide  the  things  needful,  and  to 
pick  up,  if  he  could,  a  couple  more  guests  to  make  the  party  a 
square  one.  He  had  not  gone  far  before  he  met  one  of  the 
churchwardens,  a  farmer  of  the  better  class,  with  whom  he  was 
on  friendly  terms,  and  he  booked  him  without  much  difficulty, 
for  the  farmer  having  a  termagant  wife  never  spent  an  evening  at 
home  when  he  could  avoid  it.  Now,  if  only  a  fourth  could  be 
found,  all  would  be  right.  The  Vicar  first  called  on  the  lawyer 
of  the  village,  but  he  was  engaged  to  an  election  dinner  at  Chi- 
chester.  . 

"That's  unlucky,"  said  Mr.  Medlicott. 

"  Very  unlucky  for  me,"  said  the  lawyer,  "I  would  a  thou 
sand  times  rather  dine  with  your  reverence  upon  bacon  and  beans 
than  with  those  noisy  fellows  in  Chichester  upon  turtle  and  ven 
ison." 

The  Vicar  was  a  simple  man,  but  he  did  not  implicitly  believe 
this  strong  assertion  nevertheless.  However,  he  thanked  the 
lawyer  for  the  civil  speech,  and  proceeded  elsewhere  in  search  of 
what  he  wanted.  It  is  highly  probable  there  were  several  people 


120  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

that  morning  in  the  parish  who  would  gladly  have  profited  by 
Mr.  Medlicott's  hospitable  intentions,  had  it  pleased  Providence 
to  throw  them  in  his  way,  but  it  was  otherwise  ordered ;  so  that 
the  Vicar  at  length  made  up  his  mind  for  an  odd  number,  and 
turned  his  attention  to  the  necessary  provision  for  them.  Attended 
by  a  boy  carrying  a  hand-basket,  he  went  to  and  fro  in  the  vil 
lage,  until  the  basket  was  nearly  as  full  as  it  could  conveniently 
hold  of  the  various  articles  which  he  considered  proper  for  a  plain, 
substantial,  pastoral  dinner,  and  which  his  own  small  farm  did 
not  supply.  During  these  marketing  transactions  he  had  to  pass 
and  repass  the  apothecary's  house  repeatedly,  but  the  numerous 
phials  in  the  windows,  with  the  coloured  globes,  would  have  pre 
vented  him  from  distinguishing  anybody  in  the  shop,  had  he 
been  ever  so  desirous  to  do  so.  The  same  obstructions,  however, 
did  not  prevent  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  from  accurately  observing  every 
motion  of  the  Vicar  ;  and  he  observed  them  the  more  accurately 
on  account  of  the  contents  of  the  basket,  which  became  more 
interesting  every  moment,  as  they  increased  in  variety  and  bulk. 
The  basket,  indeed,  was  of  such  a  construction  as  to  afford  too 
clear  a  view  of  the  good  things  deposited  in  it,  amongst  which  a 
fat  goose  and  a  leg  of  Southdown  mutton  fascinated  the  apothe 
cary  particularly.  There  must  certainly  be  something  in  good 
cheer  and  hospitable  preparations,  which  melts  the  human  heart 
and  disposes  it  to  kindly  feelings,  for  unquestionably  the  good 
Vicar  with  his  basket  of  provisions  had  not  passed  more  than  two 
or  three  times  before  Mr.  Pigwidgeon's,  when  his  breast  began 
wonderfully  to  relent  towards  his  old  friend,  and  he  commenced 
examining  himself  for  the  first  time,  whether  he  had  not  been  too 
hasty  in  taking  huff  at  a  hasty  word,  uttered  too  at  a  moment 
when  the  poor  Vicar  was  agitated  by  the  news  of  his  only  child's 
dangerous  illness.  In  a  very  feAv  moments  (so  rapidly  did  the  ice 
melt  when  the  thaw  had  once  set  in),  the  apothecary  had  so  far 
got  the  better  of  the  paltry  little  grudge  which  he  had  been 
cherishing  towards  the  Medlicotts,  that  he  felt  not  only  prepared 
to  resume  convivial  relations  with  them,  but  actually  conceived 
the  idea  of  seizing  the  earliest  opportunity  of  putting  that  truly 
Christian  principle  into  practice.  In  short,  he  figured  to  himself 
a  charming  little  love-feast,  consisting  of  the  fat  goose  and  the 
joint  of  Southdown  which  he  had  seen,  eked  out  with  other 
toothsome  additions  which  he  was  well  able  to  fancy.  In  this 
tender  frame  of  mind  he  made  the  circuit  of  his  counter,  dis 
played  his  slovenly  person  at  his  shop-door  just  as  the  Vicar  went 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  121 

out  of  sight,  returning  home  after  completing  his  purchases. 
There  the  apothecary  stood  musing  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  an 
hour,  leaning  against  one  of  the  posts,  debating  with  himself  what 
steps  he  should  take,  and  also  whether  the  dinner  in  contempla 
tion  was  to  be  given  that  very  day,  or  on  some  succeeding  one. 
At  length  a  sudden  thought  seemed  to  seize  him,  for  he  withdrew 
hastily,  and  appeared  instantly  again  with  his  broad-brimmed, 
slouched  white  hat  on.  Beyond  a  doubt  (judging  from  his  well- 
known  habits)  he  was  going  to  the  butcher's  or  the  poulterer's  to 
file  a  bill  of  discovery  to  ascertain  the  day  fixed  for  the  cooking 
of  the  goose  and  the  mutton.  But  a  certain  phenomenon  of  a 
meteoric  kind,  partly  terrestrial  and  partly  celestial,  saved  him  the 
trouble  of  making  the  inquiry.  This  was  a  spiral  column  of  deep 
blue  smoke  which  began  at  that  very  moment  to  ascend  over  the 
trees  in  the  direction  of  the  Vicarage,  the  bearings  of  which  the 
apothecary  knew  as  well  as  if  he  had  taken  an  Ordnance  survey 
of  the  parish.  Nay,  he  knew  the  smoke  at  once  to  be  that  of  the 
kitchen  chimney,  so  nice  an  observer  was  he,  for  this  was  not  the 
first  time  that  similar  indications  over  the  sane  trees  had  deter 
mined  his  course  of  proceedings  for  the  day.  No  time  was  to  be 
lost.  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  struck  a  bold  stroke  for  a  dinner. 

The  Vicar's  dinner-hour  was  five  o'clock,  and  at  a  little  before 
four,  as  he  and  his  brother  parson  were  sauntering  about,  talking 
of  tithes  and  dilapidations,  and  sometimes  of  better  things,  he  was 
not  a  little  surprised  by  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Pigwidgeon's  appren 
tice  with  a  present  of  a  fresh  trout  from  that  gentleman,  accom 
panied  with  a  message  to  the  effect  that  he  had  been  prevented 
by  his  professional  engagements  from  calling  at  the  Vicarage  for 
some  time,  but  he  would  look  in  the  first  evening  he  had  an  hour 
to  spare,  as  he  was  most  anxious  to  hear  from  Mr.  Medlicott's  own 
lips  the  latest  account  of  his  son.  The  Vicar  was  trapped.  There 
seemed  to  him  no  alternative  but  to  accept  the  present,  or  come 
to  actual  daggers-drawn ;  and  to  have  eaten  the  trout  without 
inviting  the  giver  to  partake  of  it  would  have  been  against  all 
Mr.  Medlicott's  notions  of  the  fitness  of  things.  Besides,  he  bore 
no  ill-will  to  the  apothecary,  although  inclined  to  despise  him, 
and  finally  he  wanted  somebody  to  make  a  fourth  at  dinner,  a 
point  which  was  the  more  important  in  his  eyes,  as  his  table  was 
a  square  one. 

Mr.  Pigwidgeon  was  invited,  after  which  it  was  needless  to 
say  tfoat  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  came  ;  and  it  was  something  like  gelr; 
ting  in  the  end  of  a  wedge,  for  the  apothecary  had  no  sooner 
6 


122  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  | 

arrived  and  i  s-established  himself  in  his  old  position  at  the  Vicar 
age,  than  he  made  a  push  and  a  successful  one  to  introduce  his 
dumpy  daughters,  the  pretext  being  that  in  Mrs.  Medlicott's 
absence  they  would  be  useful  in  the  evening  to  make  tea  for  the 
party.  In  yielding  this  point  the  Vicar  made  a  mistake  which 
ne  very  soon  deeply  regretted,  yet  what  else  could  he  well  have 
done  ?  The  Misses  Pig  widgeon  were  sent  for,  and  ere  the  dinner 
was  half  over  they  were  seen  waddling  up  the  principal  walk  of 
the  garden,  approaching  the  house  in  muslin  frocks,  prettily  spot 
ted  with  peonies,  and  every  now  and  then  dropping  into  the  form 
of  cheeses,  or  rounds  of  beef,  to  pick  the  gooseberries  or  currants, 
just  as  a  pair  of  ducks,  though  bent  on  a  journey  to  the  pond, 
will  halt  every  now  and  then  to  gobble  up  a  anail  in  the  grass. 
"  My  poor  girls,"  cried  the  apothecary  with  paternal  rapture ;  he 
was  seated  so  as  to  have  a  full  view  of  the  corpulent  nymphs  to 
whom  he  was  so  nearly  related.  The  churchwarden,  who  was 
the  gayest  of  the  party,  paid  broad  compliments  to  their  personal 
charms,  although  he  could  only  see  them  over  his  shoulder.  As 
to  the  Vicar  and  the  Rural  l)ean,  they  were  content  with  the 
side-long  prospects  their  places  afforded  them,  and  took  a  glass 
of  port  together,  while  the  apothecary  was  recounting  to  the 
farmer  the  gifts  and  accomplishments  of  his  girls.  After  all,  it 
was  the  churchwarden  and  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  who  redeemed  the 
dinner  from  stupidity  ;  for  though  neither  was  a  pleasant  fellow 
himself,  the  collision  between  them,  as  it  often  happens,  proved  a 
source  of  some  little  amusement.  The  convention  having 
casually  turned  upon  domestic  arrangements,  the  farmer  began 
talking  of  his  house,  and  the  apothecary  must  do  the  same. 

"  You  know  my  house,"  said  Mr.  Pigwidgeon. 

"  I  know  the  outside  of  it,"  said  the  churchwarden. 

The  Vicar  and  the  Rural  Dean  looked  at  one  anoliier,  and 
both  enjoyed  the  visible  elongation  of  the  apothecary's  already 
sufficiently  long  face. 

"Well,  Pigwidgeon,"  continued  the  churchwarden,  "now 
your  daughters  are  come  home  to  take  care  of  you,  you  will  be 
showing  your  friends  the  inside  of  your  house  some  of  these 
days." 

"  Aye,"  said  Pigwidgeon,  wriggling  in  his  chair,  and  making 
a  vigorous  effort  to  look  good-humoured,  "  we  must  soon  be  think 
ing  of  doing  s  Dmething  to  keep  the  house  warm." 

"  The  best  way  of  doing  that  is  by  keeping  good  fires  in  the 
kitchen,"  said  Mr.  Barber ;  "  I  look  upon  the  kitchen  as  the  heart 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  128 

of  the  house,  and  I  need  not  tell  a  gentleman  of  Mr.  Pigwidg- 
eon's  profession  the  importance  of  keeping  up  the  caloric  in  that 
region." 

"  Pigwidgeon,"  said  the  farmer,  "  you  must  not  let  it  be  said 
you  have  a  cold  heart,  which  you  see  his  reverence  considers  as 
bad  as  a  cold  kitchen." 

The  apothecary  again  tried  to  laugh ;  but  made  the  worst 
attempt  possible. 

"  There  is  not  a  more  hospitable  fellow  alive  than  I  am,"  he 
said,  "  or  one  that  loves  more  to  have  his  friends  about  him,  but 
the  misfortune  of  my  profession  is,  that  it  leaves  a  man  no  time 
to  think  of  hospitality ;  sometimes  not  a  moment  even  to  get  a 
comfortable  bit  of  dinner." 

"That's  a  very  hard  case,"  said  the  churchwarden,  with  af 
fected  commiseration. 

"  There  is  no  doubt,"  said  Mr.  Barber,  benevolently  coming 
,#  Mr.  Pigwidgeon's  rescue,  "  there  are  many  men  so  situated, 
either  professionally  or  domestically,  that  they  are  not  in  a  posi 
tion  to  be  as  social  and  convivial  in  their  own  houses  as  they 
would  wish  to  be.  Sometimes  a  man  is  very  hospitable  and 
generous  himself,  but  is  cursed  with  an  unsocial  or  stingy  wife." 

"  Or  he  may  have  a  sickly  family,"  added  the  Vicar,  thinking 
of  the  apothecary's  vigorous  brood  of  children. 

"  However,"  pursued  Mr.  Barber,  "  what  I  was  coming  to  is 
this,  that  there  are  two  ways  fortunately  of  being  social  and  con 
vivial  ;  one  is  being  convivial  at  home,  which  means  giving  din 
ners,  and  the  other  is  being  convivial  abroad,  which  means  ac- 
Ctpting  them." 

"  A  jnst  view  of  hospitality,"  said  the  Vicar,  smiling,  "  and  a 
classical  one,  being  strictly  in  harmony  with  the  two  senses  of  the 
Latin  word  hofpca,  which  signifies  guest  as  well  as  host." 

"I  don't  understand  Latin  and  Greek,"  said  the  blunt  church 
warden,  "but  I  hope  I  understand  plain  English,  and  my  notion 
is  that  a  man  ought  not  to  dine  with  his  friends  and  neighbours 
if  he  can't  or  won't  entertain  them  in  return." 

Here  Mr.  Barber,  observing  that  the  farmer's  tone  was  seri 
ous,  while  himself  and  the  Vicar  had  been  only  jocular,  and  re 
marking  also  that  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  was  sore  at  the  turn  the  con 
versation  had  taken,  rose  from  the  table  and  gave  Mr.  Medlicott's 
proposition  of  another  bottle  a  decided  negative. 

The  Vicar  himself  was  relieved  by  the  adjournment  to  the 
tea-table.  (My  one  of  the  fair  Pigwidgeons  was  there.  The 


124  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

other,  it  appeared,  had  been  taken  suddenly  ill,  and  had  retired 
to  another  room.  The  apothecary  hastened  to  see  her,  and  soon 
returned,  saying  that  it  was  nothing  serious ;  she  would  be  well 
presently  and  able  to  walk  home.  When  tea  was  over,  Mr.  Pig- 
widgeon  went  up  again,  and  the  other  sister  with  him.  He  now 
was  absent  for  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  when  he  caine 
back  it  was  to  announce  that  his  daughter  was  rather  seriously 
indisposed,  and  that  he  feared  he  must  trespass  on  the  Vicar's 
goodness  to  allow  her  to  remain  where  she  was  just  for  the  night. 
It  was  only  common  humanity  to  accede  to  such  a  request,  but 
the  consciousness  of  that  virtue  was  MR  Medlicott's  only  reward, 
for  before  he  was  out  of  bed  the  next  morning,  Mr.  Pigwidgeon 
came  to  inform  him  that  his  poor  girl  was  in  a  very  bad  way, 
though  whether  it  would  end  in  scarletina  or  small-pox  he  had 
not  yet  formed  a  decisive  opinion.  It  proved  to  be  malignant 
scarletina,  and  no  sooner  did  one  sister  begin  to  recover  than  the 
other  thought  proper  to  catch  the  same  complaint;  nor  was  this 
all,  for  the  young  doctor,  who  had  been  absent  for  some  days 
previous,  quartered  himself  at  the  Vicarage  on  his  return  in  the 
capacity  of  resident  physician,  so  that  the  Vicar  now  saw  his 
house  in  the  absolute  possession  of  the  Pigwidgeons,  and  turned 
into  a  regular  infirmary. 

Luckily,  this  unpleasant  occurrence  took  place  just  at  the 
moment  when  it  was  proper  for  him  to  set  out  for  Westbury,  but 
he  must  have  gone  on  his  travels  under  any  circumstances,  for  he 
was  nervous  on  the  score  of  infection,  and  to  have  remained  at 
home  would  probably  have  endangered  his  life. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A  FEW  PLEASANT  DATS  WITH  THE  DOOTOH. — KErBEN  RECEIVES 
THE  HONOURS  OF  A  PRIMA  DONNA,  AND  THB  WHOLE  PAKTY  SET 
OUT  ON  A  TOUK. 

"  IT  will  cost  you  a  barrel  of  vinegar  and  a  ton  of  potash,  at  the 
very  least,"  said  Dr.  Page ;  "  I  recollect  that  Pigwidgeon  well. 
When  I  commenced  life  as  physician  to  one  of  the  London  hos 
pitals,  he  was  the  manager  and  resident  apothecary  there.  We 
quarrelled  originally  on  the  subjects  of  ventilation  and  ablution. 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  125 

The  governors  sided  with  me ;  and  the  cause  of  cleanliness  tri 
umphed  in  my  person  over  Pigwidgeon  and  the  opposite  prin 
ciple.  There  was  a  case  of  moral  dirt  against  him  also — jobbing 
in  drtgs  and  wine  for  the  patients— you  understand  me — I  might 
have  pressed  the  charge  if  I  had*  wished  to  ruin  him,  but  I  was 
as  merciful  as  T  was  strong;  so  I  gave  the  poor  devil  the  alterna 
tive  of  resigning  his  place,  or  being  exposed  and  probably  pros 
ecuted ;  he  resigned  and  settled  in  your  neighbourhood,  it 
seems ;  probably  because  he  heard  your  larders  and  cellars  well 
spoken  of." 

"  That  accounts,"  said  the  Vicar,  "  for  the  feeling  he  displayed 
when  he  heard  your  name-  mentioned." 

"  Oh,  he  hates  me  as  he  hates  soap  and  water,"  said  the  Doctor. 

"  He  has  turned  us  out  of  our  house  at  all  events,"  said  the 
Vicar;  "I  don't  expect  to  be  settled  there  again  for  three 
weeks." 

"  Not  for  twice  that  time,"  said  Dr.  Page,  "  independently  of 
the  fear  of  infection.  By  Jove,  a  wise  man  in  your  circumstances 
would  burn  the  house  down ;  there's  a  young  gentleman  yonder 
would  do  it  in  no  time."  * 

This  was  a  pleasant  hit  at  Reuben,  who  was  lying  reading 
on  a  sofa  at  some  distance,  after  returning  from  one  of  his  first 
walks. 

"  What  are  you  reading,  my  dear  ?"  asked  his  mother,  who 
had  just  finished  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Wyndham,  to 'acquaint  her  with 
the  improvement  in  Reuben's  health. 

"  Shakspeare,  or  the  Pharmacopoeia  ?"  added  the  Doctor. 

" '  I  do  remember  an  apothecary,' "  said  Reuben,  smiling  and 
holding  up  the  play  of  u  Romeo  and  Juliet." 

"  I  believe,"  said  the  .Vicar,  "  there  is  something  in  Shaks 
peare  pat  to  every  subject  one  can  talk  of." 

"  A  very  just  observation,"  said  the  Doctor ;  "  I  have  often 
made  it  myself ;  only  the  other  day  I  prescribed  for  a  patient 
out  of  Henry  the  Fourth.  I'll  tell  you  about  it.  An  old  lady,  a 
neighbour  and  patient  of  mine,  was  plaguing  me  lately  about  her 
complaints  (all  imagination,  you  must  know)  :  Well,  madam, 
said  I,  how  do  you  feel  to-day  ?  She  said  she  felt — she  didn't 
know  how  she  felt — at  last  she  said  she  felt  hurt  inside.  Try 
parmaceti,  ma'am,  said  I.  Spermaceti!  said  she;  sure  that's  only 
applied  externally.  Then  you  know  better  than  Dr.  Shakspeare, 
said  I,  for  he  tells  you,  '  there's  nought  like  parmaceti  for  an  in 
ward  bruise.'" 


126  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

"  Very  pleasant,"  said  the  Vicar,  "  if  you  didn't  lose  your 
patient  by  your  joke." 

"  No  great  loss,  if  I  did  lose  her,"  replied  the  Doctor ;  "  she 
was  a  bad  patient ;  she  had  none  of  the  virtues  of  a  patient^  not 
a  single  one  of  them." 

"  I  never  before  heard  of  those  virtues,"  said  Mr.  Medlicott ; 
"  pray  enumerate  them." 

"  If  you  consider  a  moment,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  you  will  see 
that  several  excellent  qualities  are  necessary  to  make  a  good  pa 
tient;  candour  in  the  tirst  place, — a  patient  must  be  perfectly 
candid  with  his  physician,  or  how  can  the  physician  understand 
his  case  ?  Then  obedience ;  he  must  be  thoroughly  obedient,  or 
what  is  the  use  of  prescribing  for  him  ?  Faith  comes  next,  un 
bounded  confidence  in  his  doctor's  skill,  or  the  pills  and  potions 
won't  do  their  duty,  for  medicine  works  morally  as  well  as  physi 
cally,  let  me  tell  you.  The  moment  I  find  a  patient  either  de 
ceiving  me,  disobeying  me,  or  doubting  me,  I  leave  him  to  the 
quacks  and  Pigwidgeons." 

"  Your  list  of  virtues  is  far  from  complete,"  said  the  Vicar ; 
"  methinks  you  have  omitted  two  veiy  important  ones — gratitude 
and  generosity." 

"  As  to  gratitude,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  I  hold  that  to  be  a  vir 
tue  as  incumbent  on  the  physician  in  a  great  many  cases,  as  on 
the  patient, — if  my  young  friend  here  (for  example)  is  grateful 
to  me  for  doing  my  best  to  bring  him  round,  I  am  no  less  grate 
ful  to  him  for  the  opportunity  of  making  his  acquaintance,  and 
renewing  my  old  friendship  with  his  worthy  father." 

With  this  civil  speech  on  his  lips,  the  Doctor  went  to  his  cel 
lar,  to  bring  up  an  old  bottle  of  wine  to  treat  his  old  friend  with, 
for  it  was  near  dinner  time. 

"  I  am  inclined  to  think,"  said  the  Vicar  to  his  wife,  "  though 
the  doctor  and  patient  may  divide  the  gratitude,  the  former  will 
insist  upon  having  the  virtue  of  generosity  all  to  himself." 

"  What  do  you  propose  to  do?"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott;  "I  sup 
pose  you  will  offer  him  a  suitable  sum  of  money." 

"  I'll  follow  the  golden  rule,"  replied  the  Vicar,  after  a  mo 
ment's  deliberation.  "  I  would  not  like  to  have  money  offered 
me  by  an  old  friend  myself,  and  I'll  treat  Page  as  I  should  wish 
to  be  treated  by  him." 

"It  would  be  a  golden  rule,  indeed,  father,"  said  Reuben,  "if 
we  could  often  make  such  advantageous  applications  of  it." 

"  I  think  so,  Reuben,"  said  his  mother,  highly  pleased  at  her 
sou's  acute  observation. 


OB,  THE   COMING  MAN.  127 

The  following  morning  came  letters  to  every  body  from  every 
body  else.  Reuben  had  three,  one  from  Hyacinth  Primrose,  an 
other  from  his  aunf,  Mrs.  M^untjoy,  who  was  in  Scotland,  and  a 
third  from  Mre.  Wjndham,  at  Geneva,  playfully  subscribed  "his 
loving  grandmamma."  Mrs,  Medlicott  had  a  very  long  letter 
from  her  friend  Theodore,  and  her  husband  a  communication 
from  the  apothecary,  both  coolly  dated  from  the  Vicarage,  and 
giving  the  minutest  details  of  the  progress  of  the  interesting  pa 
tients,  what  medicines  they. were  taking,  how  many  blisters  had 
been  applied  to  each,  how  the  father  and  son  had  differed  once 
or  twice  on  questions  between  the  leech  and  the  lancet,  and  how 
Rose  was  expected  to  be  the  first  of  the  two  ladies  to  leave  her 
chamber. 

"  The  apothecary's  Rose,"  said  the  Vicar. 

"  I  think,"  said  Dr.  Page,  "  the  other  girl  might  appropriately 
be  called  Scarletina," 

Reuben  smiled  ;  he  never  made  a  pun  himself,  but  he  some 
times  graciously  encouraged  that  weakness  in  others. 

Breakfast  over,  the  Doctor  went  about  his  professional  avoca 
tions,  which  were  very  extensive,  and  left  his  friends  to  dispose 
of  themselves  at  their  pleasure  until  evening.  The  Medlicotts 
had  business  to  transact  also.  A  very  important  matter  was  set 
tled  that  morning,  namely,  Reuben's  preferment  to  Cambridge  in 
the  autumn,  and  that  having  been  agreed"  on,  the  Vicar  thought 
a  quiet  economical  tour  in  Wales  would  for  the  present  be  the 
best  thing  they  could  do. 

"  Let  us  hear  what  the  Doctor  says,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott, 
when  the  dinner  hour  came  round  again. 

"  The  Doctor  thinks  very  well  of  it,"  said  Page,  "  if  he  can 
not  induce  you  to  stay  where  you  are,  but  there  must  be  no  long 
marches,  and  no  climbing  after  Cachvallader  and  his  goats." 

"  We  shall  only  creep,"  said  the  Vicar ;  "  is  there  any  chance 
of  your  creeping  with  us  ?" 

"  I  have  a  mind  to  join  you,"  said  the  Doctor ;  "  T  think  my 
young  friend  is  not  strong  enough  yet  to  travel  without  his  phy 
sician,  and  by-the-bye,  I  have  got  a  little  carriage,  which  I  think 
will  hold  us  all  comfortably,  four  inside  and  one  on  the  box." 

An  early  day  was  fixed,  and  the  interval  was  agreeably  spent ; 
Reuben  took  his  father  over  to  Westbury,  to  pay  his  respects  to 
Mrs.  Reeves,  and  to  show  him  the  place  where  the  great  hay-rick 
etood  no  longer. 

The  Vicar  had  now  an  opportunity  of  hearing  repeated  all 


1213  THE    UN"  VERSAL    GENIUS  J 

the  flattering  things  of  his  son,  which  Mrs.  Medlicott  had  heard 
before,  and  though  he  was  not  so  fondly  credulous  as  his  wife,  it 
would  be  underrating  paternal  vanity  to  suppose  that  he  was  not 
pleased  on  the  whole  with  the  vox  populi.  When  it  was  an 
nounced  that  Reuben  was  on  the  point  of  starting  on  a  Welch 
tour,  the  effect  produced  was  nearly  as  electric  as  if  he  had 
been  going  up  in  a  balloon,  or  out  in  the  "  Hecla"  with  Captain 
Parry. 

The  great  proof,  however,  of  the.  popularity  which  our  hero 
had  earned  by  his  music,  his  astrology,  and  his  good-nature,  was 
reserved  for  the  day  which  was  fixed  for  leaving  the  neighbour 
hood.  The  Doctor's  carriage,  as  it  stood  at  his  door,  was  sur 
rounded  with  the  people  from  Westbury,  all  waiting  to  see  Reu 
ben  for  the  last  time,  and  give  him  and  his  parents  a  parting 
cheer.  Nor  were  some  of  them  content  with  that  easy  mode  of 
testifying  applause  and  gratitude.  The  tradesmen  had  all  joined 
in  the  expense  of  a  neat  box  of  carpenter's  tools,  which  he  waa 
entreated  to  accept,  as  a  token  of  their  feelings  towards  him. 
The  blushing  Dolly  stood  there  with  a  basket  of  fruit  as  ripe  and 
glowing  as  her  own  rustic  charms,  and  as  the  carriage  drove  off 
amidst  general  hurrahs,  she  and  the  other  maidens  threw  bou 
quets  iiilo  it,  and  pelted  him  with  flowers  like  a  Prima  Donna. 

"  This  is  too  absurd,"  said  the  Vicar,  receiving  a  volley  of 
cabbage  i-oses  upon  one  of  his  ears. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  MEDLIOOTT8  ON  THEIR  TRAVELS. — BEUBEN  BUYS  A  WELCH  GRAM 
MAR,  MAKES  THE  ACQUAINTANCE  OF  A  WELCH  BAED,  AND  FALLS 
IN  WITH  SOME  FAIR  FRIENDS. 

THE  tour  in  the  Principality  was  a  very  agreeable  one,  though 
not  so  easy  and  comfortable  in  point  of  travelling  as  it  is  at  pre 
sent.  When  Reuben  Medlicott  first  visited  North  WTales,  that 
mountainous  region  was  not  quite  as  easily  traversible  as  the  fens 
of  Lincolnshire  or  Salisbury  Plain.  The  roads  climbed  the  hills 
and  ran  down  again  into  the  valleys  :  for  one  mile  of  dull  straight 
route  there  were  twenty  of  charming  zig-zag.  Far  from  shrink 
ing  fi  >ni  the  edges  of  ravines  and  precipices,  the  wild  Cambrian 


OR,  THE  COMING   MAN.  129 

engineers  seemed  to  delight  in  conducting  travellers  to  them. 
As  to  the  by-ways,  they  appeared  to  have  been  constructed  by  the 
goats  and  sheep ;  and  there  were  numerous  glens,  gorges,  hollows, 
and  passes,  which  you  may  now  penetrate  in  a  Bath  chair,  if  you 
please,  but  through  which  you  must  then  have  travelled  on  horse 
back  or  on  foot,  if  you  were  not  content  to  imagine  their  beauties. 
The  Vicar  and  the  Doctor,  being  both  advanced  on  the  shady 
side  of  fifty,  affected  to  have  very  lively  fancies  when  they  came 
to  romantic  places  of  this  description;  but  neither  Mrs. Medlicott 
nor  her  son  were  so  imaginative.  It  was  easy  to  say  that  moun 
tains  have  all  a  family  likeness,  and  that  one  valley  must  bear  a 
striking  resemblance  to  another,  as  the  elements  of  all  mountain 
scenery  must  generally  be  pretty  much  the  same :  Reuben  had  no 
notion  of  travelling  through  Wales  without  actually  and  tho 
roughly  seeing  it;  and  his  mother  took  the  same  view  of  the 
matter,  modified  only  by  her  prudent  consideration  for  her  son's 
health  and  her  respect  tor  Doctor  Page's  advice.  On  the  score 
of  health,  however,  there  soon  ceased  to  be  any  reasonable  ground 
of  anxiety,  for  the  mountain  air,  with  the  novel  excitement  and 
delight  of  tra^glling,  had  such  a  beneficial  effect  on  our  hero,  that 
after  about  a  week's  easy  progress,  at  the  rate  of  about  twenty 
miles  a  day,  he  felt  and  looked  as  strong  as  ever  he  had  been  in 
his  life,  while,  as  to  his  appetite,  it  was  such  as  to  gratify  his 
father  and  mother  more  than  the  Cambrian  inn-keepers,  whose 
interest  in  the  subject  was  the  reverse  of  parental.  But  no  host 
or  hostess  with  a  grain  of  amiability  could  look  at  Reuben  Med 
licott  and  harbour  a  hostile  feeling  towards  him,  because  he  picked 
a  leg  or  shoulder  of  small  mutton  almost  bare  for  his  dinner. 
He  was  the  incarnation  of  good-humour,  and  continued  to  make 
himself  popular  wherever  he  came,  without  the  slightest  ambition 
or  thought  of  popularity,  for  you  may  suppose  he  had  no  sinister 
object  in  winning  the  hearts  of  the  ancient  Britons.  But  every 
thing  amused  and  interested  him,  and  his  countenance  faithfully 
reflected  the  happiness  which  he  enjoyed  from  morning  to  night, 
and  which  increased  with  every  new  scene  he  visited  and  every 
additional  mile  he  travelled.  There  was  no  occasion  to  "bid  him 
discourse."  He  was  always  ready  to  "enchant  the  ear."  He 
talked  to  the  Welch  people,  when  they  happened  to  be  able  to 
converse  in  English,  as  if  he  felt  under  personal  obligations  to  them 
for  having  such  a  picturesque  country, — such  fine  lakes,  streams, 
and  \vaterfalls.  When  conversation  was  impossible,  he  looked  at 
them  so  talkatively,  particularly  at  the  women,  and  paid  such  a 
6» 


130  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  | 

number  of  sincere  little  silent  compliments  to  their  faces  when 
they  were  fair,  and  when  it  was  otherwise,  to  their  costumes,  their 
cottages,  their  children,  or  the  scenery  of  their  neighbourhood, 
always  to  something  or  another  interesting  to  them,  that  had  the 
whole  Principality  been  one  borough,  and  had  Reuben  aspired  to 
represent  it,  his  success  would  have  been  highly  probable,  at  least 
if  universal  suffrage  had  been  the  system  established.  Mrs.  Med- 
licott  would  gladly  have  understood  the  remarks  which  were  made 
on  her  son  in  return  for  his  various  amenities,  but  her  leash  of 
tongues,  unfortunately,  did  not  comprehend  the  ancient  one  in 
which  those  remarks  were  generally  uttered,  and  she  was,  there 
fore,  under  the  necessity  of  interpreting  them  by  the  looks  and 
smiles  of  the  speakers,  which  were  in  general  quite  a  sufficient 
key  to  the  meaning.  . 

They  travelled  for  some  days  without  falling  in  with  anybody 
of  whom  they  had  the  slightest  knowledge,  although  Reuben 
turned  over  the  pages  of  the  travellers'  books  at  every  inn  where 
they  stopped ;  volumes,  by-the-bye,  which  amused  the  Doctor  and 
the  Vicar  greatly,  and  which  they  generally  perused  in  the  even 
ings  over  their  wine  or  negus.  At  Aberystwith,  however,  among 
the  very  latest  entries,  in  the  freshest  ink,  the  party  found,  to  their 
great  satisfaction  and  no  small  surprise,  the  names  of  Hannah  and 
Mary  Hopkins,  both  evidently  written  by  the  hand  of  the  latter, 
but  in  so  hasty  and  scratchy  a  way  that  the  Vicar  had  no  doubt 
she  was  laughing  heartily  while  she  -wrote  them. 

"  Hannah  Hopkins  in  Wales  at  last !"  cried  Mrs.  Medlicott 
A  trip  to  Wales  had  for  many  a  long  year  been  to  the  Quaker 
esses  the  great  desire  of  their  hearts,  but  one  which  they  had 
scarcely  -dared  to  dream  would  ever  be  gratified. 

"  Are  they  not  happy T'  cried  Reuben. 

"  They  will  not  leave  a  sprig  of  heath  or  fox-glove  behind 
them  in  the  Principality,"  said  the  Vicar.  The  Quakeresses  were 
wild  about  flowers,  and  the  wilder  the  flowers  were  the  wilder 
were  the  Quakeresses  about  them :  wherever  they  fambled  (for 
they  had  lived  all  their  lives  in  the  country)  they  gathered  brooms 
of  them,  which  were,  indeed,  the  only  ornaments  of  their  humble 
apartments,  except  the  feathers  of  peacock^  and  other  domestic 
birds,  of  which  Hannah  especially  was  a  zealous  collector. 

Reuben  made  enquiries,  and  it  turned  out  that  the  Hopkinsea 
had  left  the  inn  only  that  morning ;  their  destination  was  not  cer 
tain,  but  it  was  in  the  direction  which  the  Medlicotts  were  taking, 
so  that  there  was  a  fair  chance  of  a  happj-  reunion  at  some  point 


OR,  THE  COMING   MAN.  131 

or  another, — the  more  unexpected,  the  more  agreeable.  We  have 
already  mentioned  how  kind  the  Vicar  always  was  to  old  Mrs. 
Hopkins.  M  i-s.  Medlicott  had  a  sincere  regard  for  her  also ;  and 
as  to  the  cosy,  laughter-loving  Mary,  she  was  a  favourite  every 
where  except  at  meeting,  not  being  half  grave  enough  for  the 
Obadiahs  and  Rachaels,  though  she  was  always  dressed  as  sadly 
and  severely  as  any  of  them,  which  perhaps,  however,  only  made 
the  incorrigible  gaiety  of  her  nature  the  more  conspicuous 

Reuben  was  not  long  content  to  be  ignorant  of  the  language 
of  the  country  he  was  traversing.  At  Aberystwith  he  bought  a 
Welch  grammar  and  vocabulary,  in  :\  neat  little  shop  on  the 
skirts  of  the  town,  at  the  door  of  which,  overhung  by  an  elm  of 
great  age,  was  a  wooden  bench,  upon  which  the  old  bookseller, 
a  seedy  but  venerable  man,  was  taking  his  ease ;  and  Mr.  Medli 
cott  got  into  chat  with  him,  while  his  wife  and  son  were  bargain 
ing  for  the  grammar.  He  proved  to  be  the  parson  of  the  parish 
as  well  as  the  librarian.  The  Vicar  little  suspecting  this,  had 
been  asking  him  questions  about  the  state  of  the  clergy  in  Wales,  of 
which  he  had  heard  surprising  accounts,  and  among  other  enquiries 
had  asked  what  might  be  the  value  of  the  parish  they  were  then  in. 

"  Twenty  pounds  a  year,"  said  the  old  man. 

"  A  small  living  for  a  man  of  education  and  a  gentleman," 
said  the  Vicar. 

"  There  are  smaller  in  the  Principality,"  said  the  bookseller. 

"  Selling  books  must  be  a  more  profitable  profession,"  said 
Mr.  Medlicott. 

"  My  shop  is  the  best  part  of  my  benefice,"  said  the  old  man. 

The  Vicar  went  into  the  shop  and  communicated  to  his  wife 
and  Reuben  the  strange  discovery  he  had  made,  for  such  it  ap 
peared  to  him.  The  purchase  of  the  grammar  had  been  effected, 
but  they  could  not  leave  the  reverend  bookseller  abruptly,  and 
accordingly,  as  there  was  room  enough  on  the  bench,  they  sat 
down,  at  his  courteous  invitation,  and  passed  an  interesting  half- 
hour  in  conversation  with  him.  They  found  that  he  was  an  au 
thor  and  a  poet,  in  addition  to  his  other  kindred  vocations ;  he 
was  too  simple  a  man  to  hide  any  chapter  of  his  history,  and 
when  Reuben  questioned  him  about  the  bards  and  their  lyric 
rhapsodies,  it  soon  elicited  the  confession  that  in  his  greener  days 
he  had  attempted  a  poetical  translation  of  some  of  the  wildest. 
13e.iu  g  greatly  struck  with  Reuben,  and  flattered  by  the  interest 
he  Lit  in  the  bards,  a  member  of  whose  sacred  corporation  he 
considered  himself,  he  rose  from  the  bench,  when  he  saw  his  cua- 


132  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

tomers  atout  to  take  leave,  and,  hobbling  into  his  shop  (for  he 
was  infirm,  though  not  gouty),  hunted  out  a  copy  of  his  "  Cam 
brian  garland,"  and,  with  a  trembling  hand  and  a  bad  pen,  wrote 
on  the  title-page — 

"  The  gift  of  the  Reverend  Hugh  Evans,  an  old  poet, ," 

he  paused  for  our  hero  to  tell  him  what  he  should  add. 

"  To  Reuben  Medlicott,  a  lover  of  poetry,"  said  Reuben ;  and 
the  inscription  was  completed  accordingly. 

"  Very  neat  and  very  modest,"  said  the  old  man,  as  he  laid 
down  the  pen. 

"  Modest  on  Reuben's  part,"  said  the  Vicar,  when  they  were 
at  some  distance  from  the  shop.  "  I  cannot  say  so  much  for  the 
modesty  of  Mr.  Evans,  in  dubbing  himself  a  poet  so  confidently." 

"Yet  he  published  anonymously,  you  observe,"  said  Mrs. 
Medlicott. 

"Probably,"  said  Reuben,  "when  he  published  this  volume 
of  poems,  he  dreamed  of  afterwards  producing  something  very 
superior,  and  never  realised  his  expectations.  But  why,  sir,  did 
you  not  let  the  poor  old  gentleman  know  that  you  were  a  cler 
gyman,  like  himself^" 

"Because  he  had  told  me  his  income,  and  he  might  have 
desired  to  know  mine." 

"  You  need  not  to  have  been  ashamed  of  it,  father." 

"  No,"  said  the  Vicar,  smiling,  "  two  hundred  a  year  is  no 
thing  to  be  ashamed  of,  but  the  Reverend  Hugh  Evans  would 
have  concluded  me  to  be  a  second  Dives,  and  the  report  might 
have  reached  the  inn,  and  influenced  the  landlord  in  drawing  out 
his  bill." 

Before  he  left  Aberystwith,  Reuben  took  a  very  good  sketch 
of  the  little  book-shop,  the  ancient  tree,  and  the  group  under  it, 
the  old  man  himself  being,  of  course,  the  principal  figure.  The 
union  of  the  pastoral  and  poetical  character  with  the  humble 
though  congenial  business  of  bookseller  was  skilfully  managed  ;  at 
least,  so  thought  those  eminently  impartial  judges,  the  father  and 
mother  of  the  artist.  But,  indeed,  Mrs.  Hopkins  and  her  daugh 
ter  recognised  the  likeness  the  moment  they  saw  the  drawing, 
for  at  Barmouth  the  Medlicotts  overtook  them.  The  Doctor,  who 
had  been  visiting  an  hospital,  while  the  Medlicotts  were  visiting 
the  bookseller,  was  not  pleased  when  he  saw  the  Welch  gram 
mar:  he  thought  study  of  any  kind  unseasonable  on  an  excursion 
of  pleasure.  But  tLf  name  of  the  bookseller  pleased  him  exces 
sively  when  he  heard  it,  for  he  was  the  first  of  the  party  to  re- 
•*>ember  the  pedagogu?  in  "  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor." 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  133 

u  By  Jove,"  said  Doctor  Page,  in  great  glee,  "  if  the  book 
seller  is  so  very  old  as  you  say,  perhaps  he  is  the  very  man  who 
taught  a  distinguished  ancestor  of  mine  his  hiy,  hag,  hog" 

"  Aye,"  said  the  Vicar,  "you  bear  a  Shakspearian  name  also." 

"  And  very  proud  I  am  of  it,  I  assure  you,"  said  the  Doctor. 

Proceeding  from  Aberystwith  to  the  Goat  Inn  at  Barraouth, 
they  were  at  breakfast  the  morning  after  their  arrival,  in  a  little 
room,  looking  out  upon  the  sands,  and  adjoining  another  with 
the  same  aspect,  but  separated  from  them  by  too  thin  a  partition 
to  render  it  safe  to  speak  in  a  loud  tone,  particularly  if  you  were 
maligning  your  neighbours,  or  speaking  ill  of  the  powers  that  be. 
Voices  were  audible  in  the  next  apartment,  which  gave  rise  to 
some  speculation  as  to  the  speakers,  but  presently  rang  out  the 
merry  laugh  of  the  young  Quakeress,  which  removed  all  doubt 
upon  the  subject  In  five  minutes  the  two  breakfasts  were  con 
solidated,  and  Hannah  Hopkins  was  telling  the  Vicar  a  long 
story  to  explain  how  the  great  object  of  her  life,  an  excursion  in 
North  Wales,  came  to  be  realised,  just  when  she  and  Mary  were 
beginning  to  despair  of  ever  accomplishing  it. 

The  tourists,  now  a  party  of  six,  were  not  long  without  con 
certing  a  very  nice  plan  of  operations,  for  that  day  and  several  to 
follow  it.  But  when  breakfast  was  over,  it  was  raining,  and  it 
rained  very  doggedly  for  several  successive  days. 

The  Vicar  and  his  friend  sat  down  equally  doggedly  to  back 
gammon,  Mrs.  Medlicott  had  brought  a  volume  of  metaphysical 
sermons  with  her  from  her  father's  library ;  Hannah  Hopkins 
was  soon  engrossed  by  her  everlasting  knitting ;  Reuben  and 
Mary  had  no  resource  but  the  Welch  grammar,  and  to  it  they 
went  spiritedly  in  a  corner. 

"  The  climate  is  in  your  favour,"  said  the  Doctor  to  Reuben, 
during  a  pause  in  the  game,  upon  the  third  day  of  the  captivity 
at  the  Goat. 

"Is  the  grammar  difficult?"  asked  the  Vicar, — "vowels 
scarce,  consonants  plenty,  eh  !" 

"  Now  don't  set  Mary  Hopkins  going,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott. 

"  Friend  Thomas  always  makes  my  Mary  laugh,"  said  old 
Hannah,  looking  gravely  up  from  her  needle. 

"  Not  to  say  difficult,  not  as  difficult  as  some  other  langua 
ges,"  said  Reuben,  replying  to  his  father's  question.  "  At  least 
there  is  no  difficulty  to  stop  us." 

"  It  would  be  too  bad  to  be  stopped  by  the  elements  both 
indoors  and  9ut  ->f  doors,"  said  the  Vicar. 


134  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

Mary  laughed  again, — and  again  the  old  woman  raised  her 
eyes  solemnly  from  her  work,  but  this  time  she  addressed  the 
Doctor. 

"  Dost  thou  consider  laughing  wholesome,  friend  Page  ?"  she 
inquired. 

"  I  never  had  a  patient  that  died  of  it,"  replied  Page,  rattling 
the  dice. 

Mrs.  Medlicott  now  pretended  that  she  could  not  read,  her 
husband  and  the  doctor  were  so  facetious,  but  the  fact  was  (and 
her  husband  suspected  it  shrewdly)  that  the  sermon  was  beyond 
her  depth,  and  she  was  glad  of  an  excuse  to  lay  it  down. 

The  back-gammon  ceased  soon  after  they  had  played  two- 
and-twenty  hits ;  it  was  time  to  think  of  luncheon. 

The  name  of  Jones  was  on  the  spoons.  Mary  Hopkins  had 
teen  laughing  all  through  the  Principality,  at  the  fertility  of  the 
race  of  Jones. 

"  What  a  remarkable  name  it  is,"  said  the  Vicar, — "  There  is 
Tnigo,  the  great  architect ;  Sir  William  Jones,  the  orientalist ; 
Paul,  the  celebrated  pirate ;  Tom,  the  hero  of  the  great  novel." 

"  Don't  forget  Davy,"  said  the  Doctor. 

"  Davy  of  the  navy,"  said  the  Vicar. 

"  But  Tom  and  Davy  are  ideal  personages,"  said  Mrs.  Med 
licott. 

"  Davy  an  ideal  personage !"  cried  the  Doctor,  "  I  am  sorry 
to  hear  a  clergyman's  wife  broach  such  a  heresy." 

"  Heresy  reminds  me  of  fire,"  said  the  Vicar,  "  go,  Reuben, 
and  order  one  to  be  lighted." 

While  Reuben  was  absent  there  was  a  little  dry  altercation 
between  Mr.  and  Mrs  Medlicott  about  the  necessity  for  the  fire. 

"  The  fire  would  not  be  lighted  half-an-hour  before  he  would 
wish  it  extinguished  again,  and  then,  a  fire  at  midsummer  was 
so  ridiculous." 

"  It  was  better  to  be  too  warm  than  too  cold,"  was  the  Vicar's 
rejoinder. 

"  It  was  like  madness  ordering  a  fire  at  that  season  of  the 
year." 

"  The  thermometer,  my  dear,  ought  to  decide  the  question, 
and  not  the  almanac." 

For  once  he  had  the  last  word. 

Mrs.  Medlicott,  however,  rose  from  her  seat,  which  was  near 
the  fire-place,  and  removed  with  great  state  and  dignity  to  a 
chair  at  the  window,  where,  after  trying  to  no  purpose  to  pene- 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN.  185 

trate  the  mystery  of  the  hills  through  the  clouds  of  vapour  that 
shrouded  them,  she  put  on  her  spectacles,  and  made  a  similar 
effort  at  the  Welch  grammar,  with  not  much  greater  success. 
As  a  last  resource,  she  undertook  a  phrenological  survey  of  the 
heads  of  the  company,  which  occupied  a  considerable  time,  and 
would  have  occupied  more,  if  the  Doctor  had  not  adroitly  slipped 
out  of  the  room,  before  his  turn  came,  and,  wet  as  it  was,  set  out 
to  explore  the  medical  institutions. 


CHAPTER  VL 

HENBY  WINNING  AND  HYACINTH  PRIMROSE  JOIN  THE  EXPEDITION. 

MEANWHILE  Reuben  gave  the  order  to  a  smiling  maid  at  the 
bar,  who  passed  it  to  a  maid  in  the  kitchen,  where  a  numerous 
group,  composed  of  travellers,  servants,  postboys,  harpers,  and 
miscellaneous  hangers-on  were  collected  in  a  confused  circle 
round  a  capital  fire ;  the  travellers  desirous  of  drying  their 
clothes,  and  all  clearly  of  opinion  (in  direct  opposition  to  Mrs. 
Medlicott)  that  the  heat  of  the  dog-days  in  Great  Britain  occa 
sionally  stands  in  need  of  some  artificial  reinforcement.  "  A  fire 
for  No.  3,"  said  Peggy  Roberts. 

"  His  reverence  is  chilly,"  said  somebody  from  the  chimney- 
corner. 

"  One  of  your  country  parsons,  I  suppose,"  said  a  young 
man,  one  of  those  who  were  trying  to  dry  themselves. 

u  No,  sir,  an  English  gentleman,"  said  Peggy  Roberts. 

"  Parson  Medligoat,"  said  a  post-boy. 

"  Medlicott !"  cried  the  young  man  who  spoke  before  to  an 
other  who  was  at  his  side ;  "  can  it  possibly  be  our  Medlicott  ?" 

"  Not  very  likely." 

"  Is  the  parson  travelling  alone  ?" 

"  No,  sir,  he  has  an  elderly  lady  and  a  young  gentleman  with 
him." 

"  That  tallies."  * 

"The  young  gentleman,  what  is  he  like?" 

A  dozen  voices  burst  forth  immediately  with  as  many  com 
mendations  of  Reuben. 

He  was  the  nicest  young  gentleman  Peggy  Roberts  had  ever 
seen. 


136  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

"  And  the  civilest,"  said  the  post-boy. 

Jenny  Jones  had  seen  as  handsome,  but  he  was  as  handsome 
as  any  young  man  need  be,  and  had  the  beautifullest  head  of 
hair  in  the  world. 

A  third  damsel  vouched  for  his  scholarship,  for  she  was  the 
chambermaid,  and  had  found  his  room  strewed  over  with  books. 

"  Our  friend,  to  a  certainty,"  said  the  young  man  who  spoke 
first;  "I  wonder  what  can  have  brought  the  Medlicotts  here ; 
one  would  as  soon  have  expected  to  have  met  the  Greenwich 
pensioners  mountaineering  it." 

"  Come  ajvay,"  said  the  other. 

"  We  are  pretty  well  roasted,  and  so  I  think  is  that  quarter 
of  mutton  which  I  suspect  is  designed  for  our  dinner." 

"  I  wish  they  had  roasted  the  whole  sheep  ;  the  higher  I  rise 
above  the  level  of  the  sea,  the  more  voracious  I  become.  I  think 
I  could  take  the  altitude  of  the  mountains  by  my  appetite." 

"  Do  so,  then,  while  I  dine,"  said  Henry  Winning,  taking 
his  seat  at  a  table  spread  for  them  in  a  little  room,  which 
Peggy  Roberts  assured  them  commanded  a  magnificent  prospect 
of  a  dozen  hills,  with  names  unpronounceable,  save  by  Cam'brian 
lips. 

"  On  the  contrary,  dining  is  the  basis  of  the  calculation,"  said 
Hyacinth  Primrose,  separating  as  he  spoke  the  leg  from  the  loin 
of  the  roast  quarter  of  mutton.  "  Gulliver,"  he  added,  "  must 
have  brought  this  breed  from  Lilliput.  Shall  I  send  you  the 
leg? — the  mutton  gets  smaller  as  we  get  hungrier." 

"  No,  help  me  to  the  loin ;  when  I  have  disposed  of  that,  if 
you  want  any  assistance  to  manage  the  leg,  let  me  know,  and  !• 
shall  be  ready  to  support  you.1' 

The  loin  sufficed  Winning,  and  Primrose  left  very  little  of  the 
leg  to  adorn  the  sideboard  the  next  morning.  Cheese  and  a 
glass  of  ale  completed  the  repast. 

"  In  fact,"  said  Hyacinth,  "  the  Welch  sheep  seem  to  be  all 
lambs." 

"  Perhaps  it  is  with  mutton  as  with  men.  There  are  men 
who  continue  children  all  their  lives." 

"  Since  we  grow  philosophical  we  way  as  well  go  and  face 
Mrs.  Medlicott,  for  I  suppose  it  must  be  done." 

"  It  must,"  said  Winning,  rising  reluctantly ;  "  but  after  what 
I  said  in  the  coach  that  unlucky  night,  I  have  nothing  to  ex 
pect  but  the  coldest  reception." 

"You   compared   her  to  Minerva,"  said  Primrose;    "why 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN.  137 

the  woman  must  be  unreasonable  if  she  was  not  flattered  by 
that." 

"  I  thought  you  knew  the  sex  better,"  said  Winning ;  "  let  a 
woman  resemble  Minerva  ever  so  much,  she  will  infinitely  prefer 
an  allusion  to  Venus  or  Juno.  However,  as  you  say,  the  thing 
must  be  done,  so  we  may  as  well  do  it  at  once." 

Winning  wrote  his  own  name  and  his  friend's  on  a  card,  and 
desired  Peggy  Roberts  to  hand  it  to  young  Mr.  Medlicott. 

In  a  moment  Reuben  was  in  their  arms,  and  the  next  moment 
the  two  Cambridge  men  were  introduced  to  the  Vicar  and  his 
party,  with  the  least  possible  form  and  ceremony.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Medlicott  now  saw  Mr.  Primrose  for  the  first  time,  though  they 
had  heard  a  great  deal  about  him  from  Reuben,  who  never  erred 
on  the  side  of  undervaluing  his  friends,  or  praising  them  penuri- 
ously. 

Winning  saw  at  a  glance  that  his  unlucky  remarks  in  the 
coach  had  not  yet  faded  from  the  memory  of  Mrs.  Medlicott,  al 
though  recollecting  his  friendship  for  Reuben,  she  was  not  defi 
cient  in  any  of  the  civilities,  which  the  occasion  required.  She 
took  no  prominent  part,  however,  for  some  time  in  the  conversa 
tion  of  the  evening,  greatly  to  the  disappointment  of  Primrose. 
He  had  only,  however,  to  look  round  the  room  to  see  that  there 
was  no  lack  of  subjects  for  curious  observation.  He  fastened  his 
eye  upon  the  gaunt  old  Quakeress  in  an  instant ;  an  acquaint 
ance  with  her  fair  fat  daughter  promised  infinite  satisfaction,  even 
before  he  heard  her  laugh ;  and  when  he  heard  the  gentleman  in 
the  green  coat,  white  buckskins,  and  red  cravat,^ddressed  by  the 
title  of  Doctor,  it  completed  his  enjoyment,  and  gave  him  the  no 
tion  of  a  cyclopaedia  of  entertainment. 

Mary  Hopkins  made  good  tea ;  or  if  it  was  not  good  it  was 
the  fault  of  Jones,  Roberts,  or  Williams,  or  whatever  was  the 
name  of  the  landlord  of  the  Goat.  The  Vicar  talked,  and  so  did 
the  rest,  except  the  Doctor,  who  was  dead  tired  after  his  rambles 
to  escape  the  phrenological  lecture,  but  nobody  talked  so  much 
as  Primrose.  He  was  as  lively  as  Mercutio,  or  Gratiano,  who 
"  talked  more  nonsense  than  any  man  in  Venice"  of  his  time. 
He  first  tried  to  draw  Mrs.  Medlicott  out,  by  touching  upon  the 
scientific  topics  of  the  day,  but  failing  in  that,  he  laid  himself  out 
to  be  generally  amusing,  which  he  had  the  knack  of  being,  even 
when  lie  talked  of  himself,  which  indeed  was  the  subject  upon 
which  he  was  generally  most  fluent. 

The  Vicar  desired  to  know  whether  either  of  the  Cantaba" 


138  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  \ 

were  weather-seers ;  three  days  in  the  Goat  had  contented  him, 
and  lie  had  had  enough  of  the  wiry  music  of  the  old  harper  in 
the  hall,  towards  whom  he  was  beginning  to  cherish  the  feelings 
that  actuated  the  "  ruthless  king." 

Primrose  affirmed  that  he  was  superior  to  the  skyey  influ 
ence's;  he  was  above  the  clouds,  and  looked  down  upon  the 
weather.  In  fact  he  preferred  wet  weather  on  a  tour,  particularly 
when  he  travelled  with  Winning,  because  Winning  was  too  fond 
of  the  tops  of  the  mountains  for  his  taste.  Another  thing  was 
that  his  luck  in  travelling  was  extraordinary.  He  was  always 
sure  to  fall  in  with  a  charming  intellectual  party  at  every  inn, 
and  there  was  nothing  like  a  long  dismal  wet  day  for  enjoying 
their  company. 

The  Vicar  smiled  (well  knowing  for  whom  the  word  "  intel 
lectual"  had  been  thrown  in),  and  said  that  fortune  had,  at  least, 
been  equally  kind  to  himself  and  his  friends  in  that  respect. 

Nothing  escaped  the  keen,  comic  eye  of  Primrose,  which 
rolled  about  the  room,  and  penetrated  every  corner,  taking  in 
every  object,  no  matter  how  minute,  that  was  at  all  characteristic 
or  illustrative  of  the  coinpany. 

There  was  Mary  llopkins's  enormous  broom  of  wild  flowers, 
containing  so  much  of  the  fox-glove,  or  digitalis,  that  Hyacinth 
thought  it  must  have  been  collected  by  the  Doctor  for  his  medi 
cal  uses.  Near  it  lay  an  equally  large  truss  of  dried  grasses. 
Reuben  saw  Primrose  surveying  it  with  intense  curiosity,  and  in 
formed  him  aside  that  it  was  a  whim  of  Mrs.  Hopkins,  who  was 
a  collector  of  graces. 

"Is  she  graminivorous?"  whispered  Hyacinth. 

"I  can  tell  you  what  that  is,"  said  the  Doctor,  pointing  to 
the  bundle,  "  it  is  the  hay  that  was  saved  from  Dean  Wyndham's 
haggard  on  the  night  it  was  burned  down  by  our  clever  young 
friend  here." 

"  My  poor  Reuben,"  said  his  mother,  "  that  will  be  a  stand 
ing  joke  against  him  as  long  as  he  lives." 

"  It  made  us  very  merry  in  London,"  said  Winning. 

"  And  at  Cambridge  it  kept  us  in  good  spirits  for  a  week," 
said  Primrose,  who  had  now  come  to  a  table  piled  with  books, 
and  was  turning  over  the  Welch  Grammar,  the  Hand-book  to 
Botany,  the  Outlines  of  Geology,  the  Metaphysical  Discourses, 
and  the  rest  of  the  rather  extensive  travelling  library. 

"  We  have  brought  a  good  many  books,  you  see,  with  us  on 
our  journey,  Mr.  Primrose,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott. 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  139 

"You  are  tolerably  well  provided,"  replied  Hyacinth.  "Win 
ning1  travels  with  his  law  library.  For  my  own  part,  I  respect 
the  law  too  much  not  to  draw  the  proper  distinction  between 
term  and  vacation." 

"  Have  you  made  much  progress  in  your  life  of  Hippocrates?" 
asked  Reuben,  slyly. 

"  Xot  very  much,"  said  Primrose  laughing, — "  but  I  have  not 
forgotten  it,  I  assure  you.  I  shall  certainly  buckle  to  it  some  of 
these  days,  and  it  will  be  a  great  work  let  me  tell  you.  I  am  a 
very  hard-working  fellow,  but  I  hate  labour  mortally,  that  I  admit." 

"  You  have  the  more  credit  for  being  laborious,"  said  Mrs. 
Mecllicott. 

"  I  work  because  I  hate  work,"  continued  Primrose,  "  to  have 
it  all  over  early  in  life,  Mid  be  in  a  position  to  devote  the  rest  of 
it  to  the  delicious  far-niente.  Labour  was  a  curse  from  the  be 
ginning." 

"  A  curse,"  said  the  Vicar,  "  with  a  blessing  in  it,  as  there  is 
in.  all  the  divine  judgments,  if  we  apprehend  them  aright." 

"  Thou  hast  well  spoken,  friend  Thomas,"  said  Hannah  Hop 
kins,  who  had  all  this  time  been  sitting  as  mute  as  if  she  had 
been  at  her  silent  devotions,  but  hearkening  to  all  that  was  said 
with  amusingly  earnest  and  profound  attention.  An  argument 
that  subsequently  took  place  on  the  old  question  of  concentration 
and  diffusion  particularly  charmed  her.  Reuben  and  his  mother, 
supported  by  Mr.  Primrose,  were  pitted  against  the  Vicar  and 
Winning,  the  Doctor  taking  no  part,  nor  even  opening  his  lips, 
until  Winning,  overpowered  by  the  fluency  of  his  antagonists, 
pretended  to  want  his  support,  on  which  Doctor  Page  shook  him 
self  and  said  iie  was  "  a  physician,  not  a  metaphysician,"  a  pleas 
antry  which  put  an  end  to  the  controversy,  not  before  it  was 
much  to  be  desired. 

Mrs.  Medlicott,  before  she  retired,  invited  the  Cantabs  to 
breakfast  the  following  morning. 

Primrose  would  have  accepted  the  invitation  unconditionally ; 
but  Winning,  more  steady  to  the  plan  of  their  journey,  made  his 
acceptance  conditional  upon  the  state  of  the  weather  in  the  morn 
ing,  for  if  it  was  possible  to  travel  it  was  necessary  to  proceed 
another  stage. 

"  I  almost  hope  for  another  wet  day,"  said  Primrose,  when  he 
and  Winning  were  together  again  in  the  double-bedded  room 
they  occupied.  "  I  have  almost  fallen  in  love  with  that  merry 
Quakeress." 


140  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

"  Falling  in  love  is  a  bad  way  to  rise  in  the  world,"  said 
Winning,  "  so  for  your  sake,  as  well  as  my  own,  I  trust  to-mor 
row  will  ( e  fair." 

"  Falli  ig  asleep  is  the  wisest  course  just  at  present,"  said 
Primrose,  and  he  was  soon  steeped  in  slumber. 

Winning  sat  down  to  a  vohune  of  "  Coke's  Institutes,"  and 
read  until  he  could  read  no  longer  with  the  discordant  music  of 
a  harp,  which  somebody  was  scraping  most  barbarously  under  his 
windows,  converting  it  into  an  instrument  of  actual  torture.  Going 
to  a  window,  and  looking  out,  he  very  soon  discovered  to  whom 
he  was  indebted  for  the  interruption  of  his  studies.  Reuben  was 
taking  a  lesson  in  the  national  music  of  Wales  from  the  old 
harper  of  the  inn. 

Another  wet  day  at  the  Goat — Primrose  proposed,  at  break 
fast,  to  change  the  sign  ot  the  inn  from  Capricornus  to  Aqua 
rius.  The  Doctor  wanted  to  know  why  Mrs.  Hopkins  had  not 
given  her  opinion  on  the  subject  of  last  evening's  conversation. 
Hannah  shook  her  head,  and  told  friend  Page,  that  she  loved  to 
hear  clever  men  and  clever  women  arguing,  and  she  did  her  best 
to  understand  what  they  were  arguing  about,  but  they  were  of 
ten  too  deep  for  her  and  her  Mary,  and  this  was  the  case,  she 
confessed,  with  the  argument  of  the  preceding  night. 

"Thy  faculties,  Hannah,"  said  the  Vicar,  "are  finite,  like  my 
own  and  the  Doctor's  " 

"  My  Mary  and  I,"  said  Hannah,  "  have  many  an  argument 
together,  and  we  are  sometimes  not  much  wiser  when  we  leave 
oft'  than  when  we  begin." 

"  A  common  case  in  controversies,"  said  the  Vicar. 

A  bee  humming  in  the  window  set  Primrose  again  going  on 
the  subject  of  himself  and  his  views  of  study. 

"  There  is  no  toil,"  he  persisted,  "  lovely  in  my  sight  but  the 
toil  of  the  bee  which  works  among  the  ilowers,  or  of  the  man  of 
letters  (I  mean  the  belles-lettres,  not  the  black  letters)  who  re 
sembles  the  bee  both  in  the  varied  field  of  his  exertions  and  the 
nectared  sweetness  of  their  results." 

"  You  have  certainly  taken  a  very  exemplary  insect  for  your 
model,"  said  the  Vicar. 

"I  observed  a  bee  one  day  last  summer  in  the  Temple  Gar 
dens,"  said  Winning,  "  he  seemed  very  busy  for  a  moment  or 
two,  but  I  suppose  he  had  no  great  taste  for  the  bitter  sweets  of 
the  law,  for  he  soon  flew  away  up  the  river  towards  Richmond, 
and  I  never  saw  him  in  the  Temple  Garden  again.  That  waa 
Primrose's  model  bee,  I  suspect." 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  141 

"  Mary,  can  st  thou  repeat  Letitia  Barbauld's  lines  on  the 
bee  ?"  said  Hannah  Hopkins. 

Mary  obeyed  and  repeated  the  stanzas,  happily  not  very  nu 
merous,  with  tolerable  accuracy,  all  but  one,  in  which  Reuben 
most  good-naturedly  and  condescendingly  assisted  her. 

The  Cambridge  men  were  exceedingly  diverted. 

"  Thou  and  Mary  used  to  learn  them  together,  when  thou 
wert  my  scholar,"  said  Hannah  Hopkins,  addressing  Reuben. 

"  He  learned  many  a  useful  lesson  from  thee,  Hannah,"  said 
the  Vicar. 

"  That  I  did,  sir,"  said  Reuben. 

"  Thank  thee  for  saying  so,"  said  Hannah,  "  thou  more  than 
rewardest  all  my  trouble — why  dost  thou  laugh,  Mary  ?" 

Mary  Hopkins  had  burst  out  into  one  of  her  constitutional 
and  infectious  fits  of  most  unquakerly  mirth.  Primrose  was  hi 
raptures  with  her. 

"  Because,  mother,  thou  talkest  of  tbe  trouble  that  Reuben 
Medlicott  gave  thee,  as  if  he  had  been  one  of  thy  refractory 
scholars." 

"  Great  men,"  said  Primrose,  "  have  been  formed  under  the 
tuition  of  the  fair  sex ;  the  great  poet  Pindar,  for  example,  was 
the  pupil  of  the  charming  poetess  Corinna." 

Winning  now  saw  a  fair  opportunity  for  regaining  the  lost 
paradise  of  Mrs.  Medlicott's  favour,  and  adroitly  availed  himself 
of  it. 

"  And  the  Gracchi,"  he  said,  "  they  were  still  more  fortunate 
in  having  a  woman  of  learning  and  genius  for  their  mother." 

."In  these  dull  clays  Cornelia  would  have  been  called  a  blue 
stocking,"  said  Primrose. 

"  The  Romans  understood  some  things  much  better  than  we 
do,"  said  Winning,  with  consummate  gravity. 

Mary  Hopkins,  however,  turned  laughing  to  Reuben.  "  Thou 
seest,"  she  said,  "  all  that  is  expected  from  thee,  thou  shouldest 
be  both  a  Pindar  and  a  Gracchus,  according  to  what  thy  friends 
say." 

"  Thou  art  thy  mother's  jewel  at  all  events,"  said  old  Hannah. 

The  Vicar  laughed  heartily  at  the  speeches  of  both  mother 
and  daughter,  but  what  chiefly  amused  him  was  the  notion  of 
his  wife  being  compared  to  the  celebrated  Roman  matron,  and 
Mrs.  Hopkins  bearing  the  laurelled  name  of  Corinna. 

Winning  stood  almost  as  high  after  this  dialogue  in  Mrs. 
M'idlicott's  favour  as  Hyacinth  Primrose.  The  rest  of  the  day 


142  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

passed  as  pleasantly  as  any  wet  day,  perhaps,  that  was  ever  spent 
in  an  inn.  Winning  had  some  private  conversation  with  Reuben 
about  the  University,  in  the  course  of  which  he  soon  discovered 
that  his  friend  seemed  already  to  have  almost  made  up  his  mind 
to  devote  himself  there  to  any  but  a  definite  course  of  study,  either 
with  a  view  to  mere  academic  distinction,  or  to  the  main  business 
of  life.  In  fact,  if  a  desultory  career  can  be  properly  called  a 
career  at  all,  Reuben  Medlicott  appeared  bent  upon  pursuing  one, 
and  Henry  Winning  was  confirmed  in  the  opinion  he  had  haz 
arded  more  than  once  before,  that  his  friend  was  much  too  clever, 
or  at  least  had  too  many  friends  about  him,  whose  faith  in  his 
genius  was  too  implicit. 

The  following  morning  at  five  o'clock,  Primrose  opening  his 
eyes  and  drawing  the  curtains,  saw  Winning  at  the  window 
speculating  on  the  prospects  of  the  weather,  in  a  dress  very 
similar  to  that  formerly  worn  in  acts  of  public  penance.  "  Well," 
he  said  drowsily,  "  how  does  it  look  2 — any  sign  of  amend 
ment?" 

"  Every  promise  of  a  glorious  morning,"  said  Winning. 

"  Then  I  suppose  we  must  leave  that  dear  merry  quakeress  be 
hind  us,"  said  Primrose,  with  an  affected  sigh. 

When  the  Vicar's  party  met  at  breakfast,  the  Cambridge 
students  were  already  some  leagues  from  Barmouth,  for  the  day 
had  kept  the  undertaking  which  the  dawn  had  given,  and  was 
all  the  lovelier  for  the  contrast  with  the  gloomy  weather  which 
had  kept  the  tourists  in  confinement.  The  Vicar  would  have 
been  happy,  had  his  plans  been  consistent  with  those  of  his  son's 
friends,  but  that  was  not  the  case ;  and  indeed  it  suited  the  Med- 
licotts  better  on  many  accounts  to  jog  quietly  along  with  the 
quakers  ;  and  this  accordingly  they  did  in  a  very  enjoyable  man 
ner  ;  the  only  drawback  being  that  the  same  vehicle  was  not 
large  enough  to  carry  them  all.  This  was  remedied  by  the  hir 
ing  of  two  rough  surefooted  ponies,  upon  which  the  Doctor  and 
Reuben  rode  generally,  but  now  and  then  they  picked  up  a  side 
saddle  for  Mary  Hopkins,  who  was  probably  the  fir&t  quakeress 
who  was  ever  seen  on  horseback  in  England. 

We  cannot  afford  to  travel  at  the  tardy  rate  which  they  found 
rapid  enough  for  their  pleasure  and  convenience.  Slow,  however, 
as  their  progress  was,  the  tour  was  completed,  or  at  least  they 
had  all  returned  to  the  house  of  Dr.  Page,  before  Mrs.  Medlicott 
had  fathomed  the  transcendental  sermons,  or  Reuben  perfectly 
mastered  the  WTelch  harp  and  the  language  of  the  Llewellyns 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN.  143 

and  Cadwalladers.  The  Doctor  made  them  all  comfortable  for 
near  a  week  (during  which  Rueben  preserved  a  strict  incognito), 
and  the  worthy  son  of  Esculapius  would  have  willingly  detained 
them  much  longer,  pretending  that  at  least  a  month's  fumigation 
was  indispensable  to  purify  a  house  after  the  Pigwidgeons.  But 
the  Vicar  argued  that  unless  he  was  actually  on  the  spot,  the 
apothecary  and  his  brood  would  never  give  up  possession  ;  and 
Hannah  Hopkins,  whose  oft-repeated  rule  it  was  to  be  "  merry  and 
wise,"  had  already  exceeded  the  limits  of  the  longest  vacation 
she  had  ever  enjoyed,  and  was  inflexible  in  her  resolve  to  return 
to  her  school  with  the  greatest  possible  expedition. 

Everybody  was  sorry  to  part  with  the  kind  Doctor,  but  no 
body  so  much  as  Reuben,  who  would  indeed  have  been  ungrate 
ful  if  he  had  not  been  attached  to  a  man  who  had  shown  him  so 
much  hearty  friendship. 

The  last  thing  Dr.  Page  said  to  him  was  in  a  tone  of  good- 
humoured  warning — 

"  Beware  of  that  laughing  Quakeress." 


144  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 


BOOK  THE  FOURTH. 


QraUanp.  Well,  keep  me  company  but  two  years  more,  U»ou  shalt  not  know  the 
sound  of  thine  own  tongue. 

Antonio.    Farewell,  I'll  grow  a  talker. 

ffratiano.  Thanks,  i'  faith,  for  silence  only  is  commendable  in  a  neat's  tongue 
dried. 


ARGUMENT. 

WITH  most  men,  as  well  as  with  Sindbad,  or  Captain  Lemuel  Gulliver, 
human  life  consists  of  a  succession  of  ventures  or  voyages,  literal  or  me 
taphorical  expeditions ;  though  it  is  only  the  luck  of  a  few  such  pets  of 
my  lady  Fortune  to  discover  valleys  of  diamonds,  or  marvellous  flying 
islands.  But  who  has  not  his  "  travel's  history,"  let  it  be  prodigious  as 
Munchausen's  or  dull  as  any  modern  tour  in  the  Alps  or  Apennines  I 
Which  of  us  have  not  our  voyages,  on  which  we  set  out,  when  "  the  tide 
in  the  affairs  of  men"  happens  to  serve,  with  more  or  less  ballast  in  our  hold, 
with  more  or  less  capital  in  money  or  brains  to  trade  with,  more  or  less  of 
the  breeze  of  hope  to  fan  our  sails ;  and  from  which  (if  we  escape  the 
perils  of  the  deep)  we  return  now  and  then  to  port  with  more  or  less 
reputation  or  profit?  The  first  attempt  is  usually  a  little  coasting  trip  to 
Bchool,  where  we  probably  gain  a  small  commodity  of  Greek  and  Latin, 
and  think  we  have  made  pretty  good  merchandise  ;  at  least  we  have 
done  as  well  as  our  neighbours,  which  ought  in  reason  to  content  us. 
The  second  adventure  is  a  little  more  adventurous :  a  cruise  to  one  of  the 
famous  marts  of  learning,  that  time-honoured  university,  for  instance,  to 
which  the  young  voyager  of  these  pages — would  he  were  a  Jasou  for  the 
reader's  sake  1 — is  now  careering  in  his  hopeful  argosy, 

with  portly  Bail 
Like  signiors  and  rich  burghers  on  the  flood. 

And  now,  if  the  prospect  of  the  studious  university  daunts  any  timorous 
gentle  reader,  filling  his  imagination  with  notions  of  the  endless  jangling 
of  bells,  the  tiresome  and  ponderous  routine  of  lectures,  not  omitting 
"  the  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable"  discourse  of  Commons,  where  punning 
takes  rank  as  wit,  and  the  dinner  is  often  worthy  of  a  better  company ; 
we  desire  and  entreat  of  him  at  once  to  dismiss  from  his  mind  all  such 


OE,  THE  COMING  MAN.  145 

frightful  apprehensions,  for  with  none  of  these  horrc  rs  will  he  be  visited 
and  afflicted.  We  shall  not  ask  him  to  attend  a  single  lecture,  set  him  to 
work  the  slightest  problem,  nor  throw  in  his  eyes  the  minutest  grain  of 
the  dust  of  the  schools;  in  fact,  it  is  for  none  of  your  hum-drum  pur 
poses  our  coming  man  has  come  to  Cambridge.  He  has  no  notion  of 
breaking  his  fine  genius  on  the  dull  wheel  of  academic  duties,  and  still 
less  thought  of  bounding  his  aspirations  with  the  winning  of  academic 
honours.  He  begins  *<»  be  pricked  with  the  spur  of  a  loftier  ambition, 
and  to  feel  a  craving  Wiihin  him  which  the  glory  of  doubling  the  cube, 
or  squaring  the  circle,  will  never  satisfy.  "Sic  itur  ad  astra"  is  the  di 
rection  of  the  only  road  he  is  inclined  to  travel,  for  the  man  that  is  des 
tined  to  have  a  voice  in  the  commonwealth,  and  make  a  noise,  and  a 
loud  one,  in  the  world,  necessarily  soars  above  the  curriculum  of  hia 
college,  and  scorns  the  low  spheres  of  the  mathematicians.  The  pointa 
we  are  now  to  carry  in  his  person  are  neither  the  Hebrew  points,  nor 
those  of  geometry,  which  we  leave  to  the  mediocrities  and  the  multitude. 
We  hope  to  make  a  much  finer  figure  than  any  in  Euclid ;  and  that  is 
not  to  be  done  by  listening  abjectly  and  sheepishly  when  everybody  is 
talking  and  haranguing,  ranting  and  declaiming,  or,  at  the  very  least, 
prattling  and  prosing  round  about  us.  In  this  talking  world  (for  what 
better  definition  is  it  possible  to  give  of  it),  how  is  a  man  to  be  distin 
guished  but  by  out-talking  it?  It  is  for  the  plebeian  spirits  to  "  lend  their 
ears,"  while  men  of  nobler  strati  give  tongue  like  Anthony ;  nor  let  it 
be  said  or  insinuated  that  mighty  talking  is  incompatible  with  mighty 
doing  ;  for,  surely,  if  it  is  true  that  "  words  are  things,"  it  follows,  by  all 
the  rules  of  all  the  logicians  from  Aristotle  to  Whately,  that  the  vulgar 
distinction  between  the  man  of  words  and  the  man  of  business  is  not  to 
be  maintained  in  solemn  argument.  Why,  the  tongue  has  ever  been  dis 
tinguished  and  exalted  above  all  other  parts  of  the  human  frame  by  the 
express  title  of  "the  busy  member."  Beyond  dispute  it  is  the  busiest 
member  of  most  Parliaments,  to  say  nothing  of  its  activity  in  the  country 
at  large,  when  Parliament  is  prorogued;  or  of  its  proverbial  nimbleness 
in  domestic  discussions.  In  short,  we  question  not  but  the  reader  is  now 
completely  satisfied  of  the  truth  of  Gratiano's  remark,  that  "silence  is 
only  commendable  in  a  neat's  tongue  dried  ;"  and  has  made  up  his  mind 
to  say  with  Antonio,  "  I'll  grow  a  talker." 


CHAPTER  L 

* 

DEPARTURE  FOR   COLLEGE. 

u  ONE  would  think,"  said  the  Vicar,  "  that  nobody  ever  left  this 
neighbourhood  before  to  go  to  college." 

"  I  think  we  may  safely  say,"  said  Mr.  Pigwidgeon, "  that  we 

never  sent  a  young  man  up  to  either  University  Vftj&  such.* 

7  * 


146  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

splendid  caiser  before  him.  I'm  a  plain  blunt  man,  who  saj 
what  I  think,  and  don't  say  what  I  don't  think.  That  forehead 
of  his  is  worth  ten  thousand  a  year  ;  if  it  was  mine,  I  would  not 
exchange  it  for  a  dukedom." 

Mi's.  Medlicott  thought  of  asking  the  apothecary  home  to 
dine ;  he  had  not  dined  at  the  Vicarage  since  he  turned  it  into 
an  hospital. 

Somebody  else  who  was  present  inquired  what  Reuben  was 
intended  for. 

"  Very  little  matter  what  he  is  intended  for,"  said  Mr.  Pig- 
widgeon,  taking  it  upon  him  to  reply  ;  "  the  young  man  is  fit  for 
anything  ;  whatever  profession  he  chooses,  we'll  see  him  at  the 
tip-top  of  it  before  he  is  thirty." 

This  secured  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  the  dinner. 

Mr.  Pigwidgeon  was  a  deliberate  flatterer ;  he  lived  by  it  in 
part,  as  he  lived  by  administering  other  less  agreeable  things : 
but  the  Vicar  and  his  wife  heard  nearly  the  same  language  re 
garding  Reuben  from  almost  everybody  about  them,  until  it  war 
not  very  wonderful  that  the  mother's  head  was  turned  almot k 
round,  for  it  was  as  much  as  the  father  could  do  to  keep  his  owi» 
steady. 

If  Reuben's  departure  for  school  made  such  a  sensation  among 
his  relations  and  acquaintances,  you  may  conceive  the  excitement 
caused  by  his  setting  out  for  the  University.  The  fuss  that  was 
made  about  so  common-place  an  event  was  absolutely  ridiculous. 
Mrs.  Winning,  of  Sunbury,  gave  a  fete  champetre.  Matthew 
Cox  gave  the  heartiest  of  entertainments  at  his  country-house, 
and  made  Reuben  a  present  of  the  "  Encyclopaedia  Britaimica." 
Canon  Oldport,  who  was  always  glad  of  an  excuse  for  giving  a 
dinner,  invited  Reuben  and  his  father  to  a  remarkably  jovial  party 
of  eight ;  the  effect  of  which  upon  the"  host  was  a  fit  of  the  gout, 
which  confined  him  to  his  chair  for  the  same  number  of  weeks. 
Hannah  Hopkins  insisted  upon  every  body  drinking  tea  with  he* 
and  made  one  of  her  huge  "  cut-and-come-again "  cakes  for  the 
occasion ;  and  it  was  not  without  some  management  Reuben  es 
caped  being  encumbered  with  half  a  ton  of  it  on  his  journey  to 
Cambridge.  Every  body  did  sometlwng  hospitable  but  Mr.  Pig- 
widgeon,  who  pretended  that  one  of  his  daughters  had  a  bad 
attack  of  influenza.  The  apothecary,  however,  showed  not  only 
the  greatest  willingness  b  tt  the  greatest  anxiety  to  be  included 
himself  in  all  the  festivities  of  the  neighbourhood,  and  he  never 
forgave  Mr.  Cox  for  not  inviting  him  to  the  banquet  he  gave  in 
honour  of  Reuben. 


OR,  THE  COMING   MAN.  14:7 

The  object  .f  all  this  interest,  and  the  principal  figure  in  these 
various  festive  scenes,  was  now  nineteen ;  he  had  attained  his  full 
growth,  not  far  beneath  the  six-foot  standard  ;  his  figure  was  still 
slight,  but  showed  a  tendency  to  a  larger  development,  and  his 
countenance  was  most  agreeable  and  prepossessing.  His  lip  was 
no  longer  as  smooth  as  Hebe's,  and  a  manly  graciousness  was 
beginning  to  supersede  the  almost  feminine  softness  of  boyhood. 
Of  his  personal  advantages  he  was  not  unconscious ;  he  made  the 
most  of  them  by  a  scrupulous  attention  to  liis  toilette,  and  no 
doubt  he  was  much  indebted  to  his  graceful  exterior,  as  well  as 
to  the  amenity  of  his  disposition  and  manners,  for  the  favorable 
impression  he  made  wherever  he  went ;  but  nothing  gained  him 
so  many  admirers  as  his  vivacity  and  fluency  in  conversation.  In 
a  narrow  rural  circle,  where  few  could  talk  at  all,  and  still  fewer 
had  anything  to  talk  about,  a  young  man  who  could  speak  with 
facility  for  a  whole  evening  upon  twenty  subjects  in  succession, 
was  regarded  as  little  less  than  a  prodigy.  As  Reuben  could  rea 
son  with  his  father  on  divinity,  discourse  with  his  mother  on  me 
taphysics,  talk  agriculture  with  the  farmers  of  Underwood,  com 
merce  with  the  burghers  of  the  neighbouring  city,  not  to  speak  of 
poetry  and  botany  with  Mary  Hopkins,  it  is  not  much  to  be 
wondered  at  that  he  was  pretty  generally  believed  to  have  all 
human  knowledge  at  the  ends  of  his  fingers.  He  was,  in  fact, 
laying  the  foundation  in  local  celebrity  of  that  wide  reputation 
which  he  subsequently  acquired  as  a  talker  of  the  first  magnitude. 
Several  people  of  rank  in  the  neighbourhood  who  met  him  at  Mrs. 
Winning's  and  Mr.  Oldport's,  conceived  the  highest  notions  of 
hi.-  abilities,  and  as  to  the  mercantile  men  and  the  farmers,  they 
thougiit  th.it  nothing  comparable  to  Reuben  had  ever  appeared, 
at  least  since  the  days  of  Pitt,  and  freely  talked  of  the  biggest 
wigs  in  all  the  professions  in  connexion  with  his  young  head. 

Upon  the  whole,  what  with  Ids  handsome  person,  his  engag 
ing  manners,  his  voluble  tongue,  the  acquirements  he  actually 
possessed,  and  those  his  fond  friends  so  liberally  gave  him  credit 
for,  few  young  men  ever  left  the  paternal  roof  for  the  banks  of 
the  Cam  or  the  Isis,  leaving  behind  him  a  more  general  convic 
tion  that  everything  worth  winning  in  the  world  would  be  won 
in  a  canter.  He  left  behind  him  also  several  living  proofs  of  his 
popularity,  four  little  godsons  all  bap'.ized  by  the  name  of  Reuben, 
not  only  to  do  him  honour,  but  with  i  prudent  view  to  the  future 
patronage  and  protection  of  so  distinguished  a  sponsor. 

Our  very  reverend  grandfather  was  still  abroad,  Rhining  and 


148  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

Rhoning  it  with  his  young  wife,  or,  notwithstanding  flie  burning 
of  his  haggard,  he  would  probably  have  appeared  in  person  at  a 
moment  so  critical  to  young  Medlicott,  and  coiae  handsomely 
down  with  some  thumping  lecture  or  discourse,  on  the  duties  and 
studies  of  a  young  collegian.  Though  absent,  however,  and  ab 
sent  upon  such  engrossing  business  as  a  honeymoon,  he  did  not 
altogether  neglect  Reuben,  but  chalked  out  a  course  of  reading 
for  him,  with  a  sort  of  chart  appended  to  it  for  the  entire  voyage 
of  life,  all  upon  a  loose  scrap  of  paper,  in  the  Dean's  usual  rough 
and  hasty  way  of  committing  even  his  best  considered  views  to 
writing. 

The  plan  was  this — Reuben  was  first  to  devote  himself  dog 
gedly  to  mathematics,  then  he  was  to  obtain  a  fellowship,  after 
that  he  was  to  be  ordained  ;  pupils  were  all  along  to  yield  him  a 
handsome  income,  but  eventually  he  was  to  get  a  living ;  thus 
between  collegiate  honours  and  professional  advancement  he  was, 
in  fact,  to  tread  as  nearly  as  possible  in  his  grandfather's  steps, 
and  a  very  fair  road  it  was  to  wealth  as  well  as  to  reputation  ; 
the  more  was  the  pity  that  it  existed  only  on  paper,  like  a  Ben 
thamite  constitution. 

The  Dean  made  two  egregious  mistakes.  The  talent  for  doing 
anything  doggedly  was  not  among  Reuben's  gifts,  various  as  they 
were.  Besides,  he  had  no  ardent  passion  for  matliematics ;  so 
the  very  foundation  of  his  grandfather's  scheme  failed ;  it  is  to  be 
hoped  his  houses  on  Wyndham  terrace  were  considerably  more 
substantial.  It  might  have  been  hard  to  have  chosen  a  path  for 
Reuben,  in  which  he  would  have  steadily  travelled,  but  he  was 
unfortunate  in  being  put  in  a  track  from  which  he  was  almost 
under  a  sort  of  necessity  of  wandering.  Respect  for  his  grand 
father  and  the  slip  of  paper,  however,  was  too  strong  a  principle 
not  to  govern  his  conduct  for  at  least  a  year ;  accordingly  for  about 
that  space  of  time  he  cultivated  algebra,  trigonometry,  and  the 
conic  sections  in  that  sort  of  heartless  and  desultory  way  which 
never  made  any  man  a  senior-wrangler. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  year  he  began  to  grow  weary  of 
swimming  against  the  stream,  and  had  thoroughly  convinced  him 
self  that  he  would  never  eclipse,  or  even  equal  Newton.  The 
metaphysical  and  moral  sciences  suited  him  infinitely  better  than 
the  exact  ones ;  there  was  place  in  the  former  for  the  flowers  that 
refused  to  twine  with  the  triangles,  and  for  the  rainbow  hues 
which  the  circles  of  geometry  would  have  nothing  to  do  with. 
Logic  and  Ethics  were  daughters  of  philosophy  as  well  as  Mathe- 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  149 

sis ;  and  fame  was  to  be  achieved  by  courting  them,  if  not  at  St. 
John's,  at  least  beyond  its  walls.  Reuben  began  already  to  de 
spise  his  college  for  th-Q  narrowness  and  exclusiveness  of  its  pur 
suits.  Had  the  trev  knowledge  only  one  branch  ?  Was  the 
mind  to  march  only  in  one  contracted  road  ?  Why  had  learning 
so  many  provinces,  why  had  the  intellect  so  many  faculties,  wh 
had  the  brain  so  many  chambers,  or  the  head  organs  ?  Howeve* 
let  the  men  of  St.  John's  be  as  narrow  as  they  pleased,  was  he  to 
cramp  his  genius  because  they  perhaps  had  none  to  be  cramped ; 
was  he  to  degrade  himself  into  a  calculating  machine,  and  pass 
the  best  days  of  his  life  extracting  roots  and  solving  equations' 
If  these  views  had  not  readily  occurred  to  his  own  mind,  his 
iriend  Primrose  was  no^v  at  his  elbow  to  suggest  them  strongly 
enough,  and  every  letw.  from  his  mother  tended  also  to  confirm 
them.  Mrs.  Medlicott,  in  truth,  had  never  much  admired  her 
father's  ideas  of  a  career  for  Reuben,  and  she  had  even  been  more 
hurt  than  she  conlessed  at  the  slovenly  informal  way  in  which  he 
had  communicated  them,  upon  a  loose,  and  not  over  nice  scrap 
of  paper;  in  fact,  it  was  the  back  of  his  bill  at  an  hotel  in  Gene 
va.  What  she  least  liked  in  the  plan  was  the  notion  of  Reuben 
grinding.  Were  the  fine  talents  of  her  son  to  be  wasted  in  the 
most  harassing  and  stupefying  of  all  human  occupations  ?  More 
over,  she  was  by  no  means  satisfied  of  the  absolute  necessity  of 
confining  Reuben  to  the  Church  in  the  choice  of  a  profession. 
In  fact,  in  common  with  most  of  the  Demi's  family,  she  had  ceas 
ed  to  flatter  herself  with  the  hopes  of  the  mitre. 

Mathematics  having  been  thrown  aside,  a  period  followed  in 
which  Reuben  seemed  to  lie  dormant,  like  a  boa  who  has  made 
a  vigorous  meal,  and  reposes  for  months  during  the  process  of  di 
gestion. 

After  such  vacations  of  his  brain,  Reuben  generally  surprised 
his  friends  by  the  development  of  a  new  talent ;  but  the  talent  he 
developed  now  was  not  actually  new,  only  a  growth  and  expan 
sion  of  an  old  one.  Reuben  became  a  member  of  the  Union,  and 
entered  into  its  debates  and  political  sham  battles  with  his  usual 
industry  and  ardour  in  pursuits  irrelevant,  or  at  best  only  collat 
eral,  to  the  main  business  of  life.  He  soon  attained  a  very  con 
siderable  degree  of  success  and  celebrity  <*»  a  debater  on  all  sides 
of  the  questions  commonly  discussed  in  those  juvenile  schools  of 
rhetoric,  such  as  the  assassination  of  Julius  CaBsar,  the  public  con 
duct  of  Coriolanus,  and  whether  luxury  ought  or  ought  not  to  be 
permitted  by  the  lawgivers  of  a  wise  community.  In  the  course 


150  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

of  a  few  terms,  it  was  surprising  what  an  extraordinary  command 
lie  acquired  of  tropes  and  metaphors,  and  what  a  capital,  telling, 
and  brilliant  speech  he  was  able  to  make  upon  any  given  subject 
without  boring  his  hearers  with  dry  facts,  or  fatiguing  himself 
with  extensive  reading.  lie  distanced  his  friend  Winning  many 
n  «jng«e.  Winning  could  do  no  more  than  study  the  question 
as  attentively  as  his  serious  avocations  permitted,  and  as  his  ora 
tory  was  bounded  by  the  extent  of  his  knowledge,  he  made  but  a 
poor  figure  against  a  competitor  whose  eloquence  was  only  the 
more  copious  and  splendid,  the  less  he  knew  about  the  real  mer 
its  of  what  he  was  talking  of.  In  fact,  a  man  of  a  less  generous 
nature  than  Henry  Winning,  or  of  inferior  understanding,  would 
have  been  mortified  at  the  success  of  a  rival  who  was  so  much  his 
junior  as  Medlicott;  but  Winning  had  still  his  eye  steadily  fixed, 
as  at  school,  upon  the  main  chance,  and  only  attended  the  meet 
ings  of  the  Debating  Society  to  attain  that  degree  of  facility  in 
public  speaking  which  is  essential  to  distinction  in  the  profession 
of  the  law,  though  subordinate,  of  course,  to  the  study  of  the  law 
itself.  If  he  felt  any  pain  at  the  sight  of  his  friend's  trophies,  it 
was  purely  on  his  friend's  account ;  but  he  was  now  more  econo 
mical  of  his  advice  than  he  had  been  at  Finchley,  not  only  be 
cause  Reuben  was  of  an  age  to  think  for  himself,  but  feeling,  as 
all  sensible  men  feel,  the  older  they  grow,  that  advice-giving  is  in 
general  a  very  presumptuous  and  a  very  unfruitful  occupation. 

It  was  the  necessary  consequence  of  Reuben  Medlicott's  victo 
ries  in  this  new  field  that  he  began  soon  to  think  that  the  bar  was 
the  profession  best  suited  to  his  talents ;  and  in  this  notion  he  was 
warmly  encouraged  by  the  prudent  Hyacinth  Primrose,  who  saw 
in  our  hero  the  embryo  of  an  Er.skine  as  clearly  as  he  ever  saw 
any  result  in  his  life  not  actually  present  to  his  senses. 

"Medlicott,  you  are  not  going  to  throw  yourself  away  on  the 
Church  2"  said  Primrose,  one  morning  after  one  of  Reuben's  tri 
umphs  in  mock  debate, — "  You  are  not  going  to  bury  those  splen 
did  oratorical  powers  of  your's  in  a  country  curacy." 

"  As  to  your  grandfather  getting  a  bishopric,  I  look  upon  that 
now  as  peifectly  chimerical,"  said  De  Tabley,  who  was  present. 

"  Whether  my  grandfather  gets  a  bishopric  or  not,  I  shall  cer 
tainly  not  go  into  the  Church,  without  feeling  a  conscientious  vo 
cation  for  it,"  replied  Reuben. 

"  That's  an  additional  consideration,"  said  Primrose.  "  You 
have  no  more  vocation  to  be  a  clergyman  than  I  have.  Very  few 
clever  fellows  have,  unless  when  there  is  Church  patronage  in  the 


OR,  THE  COMING   MAN.  151 

fomily.  Men  get  a  pastoral  turn  veiy  early  when  they  are  bom 
within  view  of  a  couple  of  handsome  steeples,  and  their  fathers 
possess  the  advowsons. " 

"  I  am  not  of  age  to  be  ordained  yet ;"  said  Reuben,  musing 
ly  ;  "  before  that  time  arrives,  I  may  possibly  by  study  and  re 
jection  acquire  the  proper  frame  of  mind." 

"  And  if  the  frame  of  mind  is  not  acquired,  all  the  time  pass 
ed  in  waiting  for  it  will  be  thrown  away." 

"  Why  that  is  true,"  said  Medlicott 

"  Give  the  Church  to  the  winds,  my  good  fellow,  that's  my 
deliberate  advice ;  turn  your  talents  to  account,  and  lose  no  time 
in  entering  your  name  at  the  Temple.  What  do  you  say,  De 
Tabley  ?" 

De  Tabley  was  busy  at  a  cold  pie,  but  not  so  busy  as  not  to 
assent  to  Primrose's  opinion, 

Reuben  shook  his  head,  and  desired  his  friends  to  recollect 
that  he  was  almost  penniless ;  that  his  father  had  nothing  to 
leave  him,  and  that  the  bar  was  not  a  profession  to  yield  an  im 
mediate  income,  even  assuming  success  to  be  perfectly  certain. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  said  Primrose,  "neither  Winning  nor  my 
self  has  any  patrimony  worth  speaking  of.  In  nine  cases  out  of 
ten,  a  patrimony  is  a  drag  on  the  wheel  of  fortune ;  it  is  true  of 
small  patrimonies,  at  all  events." 

"  But  a  man  must  live  upon  something  before  the  fees  begin 
to  come  in, w  said  Reuben,  arguing,  as  it  were,  for  the  Church, 
while  he  was  greatly  pleased  and  flattered  by  having  the  bar  so 
strongly  recommended  to  his  consideration. 

"  No  doubt,  but  you  forget  the  never-failing  and  delightful  re 
source  of  literature  ;  you.  can  write  essays  for  the  magazines,  crit 
icisms  for  the  reviews,  articles  for  the  newspapers — there  are  the 
annuals,  quarterlies,  monthlies,  weeklies,  and  dailies,  all  before 
you — in  fact,  you  may  make  a  little  fortune  with  your  pen,  at 
tendant  the  great  one  which  you  will  afterwards  make  with  yo«r 
tongue.  Recollect,  too,  that  very  little  law  will  serve  with  elo 
quence  rare  as  yours.  Men  get  to  the  top  of  the  wheel  in  these 
days  much  quicker  by  the  tongue  than  the  brains.  The  tongue 
is  the  substantial  dish,  the  brains  are  only  the  garnish." 

"  Tongue  and  brains  must  have  been  a  strange  dish,"  said  De 
Tabley  ;  "•  I  suppose  it  was  a  favourite  one  in  Goldsmith's  time." 

Reuben  smiled  at  De  Tabley's  incidental  bit  of  gastronomy, 
and  then  said  he  thought  there  was  a  good  deal  of  sense  in  the 
plan  Primrose  suggested. 


152  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

"And  it  has  this  great  advantage,"  continued  Hyacinth, 
"  that  supposing  the  law  to  fail  after  all — 

"  You  have  literature  still  at  your  back — " 

"  Exactly — two  strings  to  your  bow — decide  for  the,  bar,  my 
boy;  if  our  road  will  not  be  quite  as  short  as  Winning's,  at  least  it 
will  be  twice  as  flowery,  and  twice  as  enjoyable." 

De  Tabley  was  again  appealed  to,  and  perfectly  concurred 
with  Primrose's  views,  adding,  however,  that  he  only  dissuaded 
Reuben  from  the  Church,  because  there  was  no  prospect  of  Dean 
Wyndham  being  a  bishop ;  "  for,"  added  he,  "  my  opinion  of  the 
summum  bonum,  is  a  good  living ;  which  if  a  man  can  obtain, 
it  must  be  his  own  fault  if  he  does  not  keep  a  good  kitchen,  and 
a  good  cellar.  I  see  no  reason  why  he  should  not  have  a  good 
library  also." 

"  In  the  third  place, "  said  Primrose. 

Many  more  conversations  of  the  like  nature  tended  rapidly 
to  unsettle  the  views  with  which  Reuben  had  arrived  at  Car- 
bridge  ;  but  the  question  was  too  serious  to  be  decided  by  th» 
judgment  of  Primrose  and  De  Tabley,  or  even  of  "  the  young  man 
eloquent,"  himself,  who,  indeed,  never  contemplated  upon  this  or 
ony  other  occasion,  flying  abruptly  or  rebelliously  in  the  face  of 
his  nearest  friends  and  relatives,  particularly  his  grandfather,  the 
objoet  of  his  earliest  admiration  and  respect. 

"Write  to  your  father — break  the  matter  to  him,"  said 
Primrose,  after  the  next  rhetorical  triumph  in  the  mimic  senate. 

"  Til  write  to  my  mother,"  said  Reuben. 


CHAPTER  EL 

HERO   WORSHIP. 

HE  wrote  to  Tiis  mother  accordingly,  and  to  make  his  case  in 
favour  of  the  law  as  strong  as  possible,  he  accompanied  the  letter 
with  two  of  his  most  elaborate  speeches,  one  on  Coriolanus  and 
the  other  on  the  question  of  luxury,  its  effects  on  common  wealths, 
and  whether  lawgivers  ought  to  restrain  it  or  not  by  statutes. 
The  oration  on  luxury  pleased  Mrs.  Medlicott  most ;  "  it  was  so 
powerfully  reasoned,"  she  said,  "  and  so  philosophical ;"  but  Doc 
tor  Pigwidgeon  preferred  the  Coriolanus,  without  very  accurately 
knowing  who  Coriolanus  was. 


OB,  THE  COMING   MAN.  153 

Doctor  Pigwidgeon  was  no  longer  a  nickname.  He  had 
recently  obtained  a  Scotch  degree,  and  had  now  a  right  to  the 
title.  He  and  his  father  were  on  the  old  footing  again  at  the 
Vicarage,  dropping  in  at  dinner  two  or  three  times  a  week,  one 
or  other  of  them,  and  sometimes  both,  upon  the  stale  old  pleas 
and  pretences,  which  to  be  sure,  as  long  as  the  object  was  gained, 
answered  the  purpose  quite  as  well  as  new  ones.  As  to  the 
ladies  of  the  family,  however,  Mrs.  Medlicott  kept  them  at  bay 
inexorably,  probably  thinking  that  enough  had  been  sacrificed  to 
them  already. 

Doctor  Pigwidgeon,  as  we  have  said,  preferred  the  Corio- 
lanus. 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,  Theodore, — let  us  go  sit  in  the  garden, 
and  you  shall  read  it  aloud  to  me." 

The  Vicar  was  planting  out  brocoli.  It  was  not  far  from  the 
usual  dinner-hour,  and  a  tapping  was  heard  at  the  door  in  the 
hedge  just  before  the  reading  of  the  speech  commenced. 

"  That's  my  dad,"  said  Doctor  Pigwidgeon. 

"Highly  probable,"  said  the  Vicar,  duly  resting  on  his  spade, 
and  looking  for  the  moment  almost  as  sour  as  Timon  in  the 

O 

same  attitude. 

Young  Pigwidgeon  went  to  the  door ;  his  conjecture  was  per 
fectly  well  founded. 

"  Dinner's  over,"  said  the  son  jocularly  to  the  father,  as  he 
admitted  him. 

"  You  are  come  in  the  nick  of  time,  Mr.  Pigwidgeon,"  .said 
Mrs.  Medlicott,  nodding  to  her  never  unexpected  guest,  the  apothe- 
ecary. 

•  Very  good  of  you  to  say  so,  madam,  but  I  can't  even  sit 
down.  I  only  looked  in,  as  I  was  passing  by,  to  inquire  if  the 
Lai!  yesterday  injured  your  wall-fruit." 

It  would  have  been  just  the  moment  for  taking  the  apothecary's 
picture.  He  was,  indeed,  a  strange-looking  animal.  He  was 
meagre,  and  would  have  been  tall  had  he  held  up  his  head  and 
shoulders,  but  he  stooped  so  much  that  a  string  from  his  head  to 
his  heels  would  have  made  quite  a  bow  of  him.  His  limbs  were 
so  wandering  and  ill  put  together,  that  they  seemed  almost  to  be 
detached  from  his  person,  or  as  if  the  joints  were  made  of  some 
extremely  soft  gelatinous  substance.  This  straggling  and  drop 
ping  character  extended  to  his  features.  His  eyebrows,  which 
were  grizzly  and  bushy,  fell  heavily  over  his  small  cunning 
•yes,  wlreh  were  never  at  rest,  for  he  seemed  to  be  alwaya 


154.  Tf.  E    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS J 

screwing  and  forcing  them  to  see  something  more  (f  every 
thing  about  him  than  they  were  disposed  to  see  of  tlieir  own 
accord.  His  long,  hooked  nose  (apparently  a  mere  continuation 
of  his  high  forehead)  almost  tumbled  into  his  month  when  it 
reached  it ;  the  mouth  in  turn  hung,  or  rather  wagged,  upon  the 
chin,  and  the  chin  was  in  fact  a  flight  of  chins,  descending  shak- 
ingly  to  his  chest  The  morality  which  gave  expression  to  tin? 
beauty  was  in  unison  with  it.  In  short,  the  "  music  of  his  face," 
to  use  Byron's  conceit,  played  an  air  very  like  "the  Rogue's 
March."  His  attire  (for  he  did  not  disdain  "  the  foreign  aid  of 
ornament")  consisted  of  a  black  suit,  not  very  new,  and  which, 
like  his  limbs  and  features,  seemed  connected  with  him  by  asso 
ciations  of  much  too  loose  a  kind.  The  coat  would  have  held 
two  sueli  apothecaries,  if  his  match  could  have  been  found  in 
England.  Upon  the  whole,  there  was  something  about  the  man 
that  sin  gested  a  connexion  with  the  Pays  Bos  of  literature,  or 
an  existence  in  the  back  settlements  of  one  of  the  learned  pro 
fessions.  If  a  man  of  letters,  he  might  have  passed  for  a  subur 
ban  writing-master ;  if  connected  with  the  Church,  a  parish  clerk 
or  a  Welch  curate ;  if  in  the  medical  department,  you  would  have 
guessed  him  to  be,  what  in  fact  he  was,  the  shabby  apothecary 
of  a  country  village.  Mrs.  Medlicott  used  sometimes  to  say  hand 
some  things  of  his  forehead.  Positively  it  was  a  very  fine  one, 
but  so  much  the  worse  for  the  science  of  phrenology. 

"  We  should  be  very  happy,  Mr.  Pigwidgeon,  if  you  could 
stay  to  dinner,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott,  smiling,  "  but  I  was  invit 
ing  you  to  a  banquet  of  another  kind," — and  she  held  up  the 
paper  that  contained  Reuben's  thunder  as  if  it  contained  the  most 
tempting  delicacy  in  the  world. 

"  Ah !"  said  the  apothecary,  advancing,  "  that's  a  horse  of  an 
other  colour." 

"  And  when  I  tell  you  what  this  is  !"  added  Mrs.  Medlicott, 
to  pique  his  appetite. 

As  soon  as  the  apothecary  learned  the  nature  of  the  threat  that 
awaited  him,  he  declared  that  he  must  postpone  all  other  busi 
ness  to  enjoy  it;  and  accordingly  the  reading  tock  place  with 
due  solemnity. 

The  Vicar  went  on  planting  his  brocoli.  He  said  he  could  hear 
very  well,  but  Mrs.  Medlicott  thought  it  was  quite  impossible,  so 
(to  accommodate  matters)  Mr.  Theodore  Pigwidgeon  climbed  up 
into  the  fork  of  a  pear-tree,  from  which  rural  rostrum  his  voice 
was  easily  audible  in  all  parts  of  the  garden.  The  apothecary 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  155 

seated  himself  on  a  rolling-stone,  from  which  he  could  not  only 
see  his  son  in  the  tree,  but  the  smoke  of  the  kitchen  chimney 
over  it;  while  the  proud  mother  occupied  a  rustic  chair  right  in 
face  of  the  doctor's  perch,  and  the  raven  l<ept  hovering  and  hopping 
near,  as  if  he  too  was  interested  in  the  question  of  Coriolarms. 

Between  the  orator  and  the  majority  of  his  critics  there  was 
not  much  difference  in  point  of  judgment.  It  would  have  been 
hard  to  decide  whether  Reuben's  in  Hated  sentences  and  -redun 
dant  metaphors  were  more  or  less  ridiculous  than  the  plaudits 
which  they  drew  forth  from  every  one  but  the  Vicar,  for  even  the 
raven,  after  having  heard  the  elder  Pi--\vidgeon  cry  "  hear,  hear," 
half  a  dozen  times,  as  if  he  had  been  at  a  parish  vestiy,  mimicked 
the  cry  to  admiration,  and  came  out  with  "  hears"  in  a  manner 
quite  parliamentary. 

Before  the  reading  was  concluded,  the  tidy  maiden,  who  filled 
the  office  of  butler  at  the  Vicarage,  tripped  forth  to  announce 
dinner.  Mi's.  Medlicott  was  for  leaving  the  dinner  to  cool,  and 
finish  the  speech,  but  the  Vicar  shouldered  his  spade,  and 
marched  into  the  house  with  the  manner  of  a  man  who  disdains 
to  argue  a  plain  question  which  he  has  in  his  power  practically 
to  settle. 

As  the  apothecary  sneaked  after,  we  have  an  opportunity  of 
observing  him  in  motion.  If  he  looked  more  comical  at  one 
time  than  another,  it  was  when  he  walked,  for  he  traversed  the 
ground  with  ridiculously  long  strides,  like  the  step-father  in  one 
of  Hood's  diverting  sketches ;  and  carried  his  hands  plunged  in 
the  pockets  of  his  nether  garments,  as  a  cheap  substitute  for 
gloves ;  keeping  his  eyes  for  the  most  part  riveted  upon  his  shoes, 
although  neither  in  their  shape  nor  their  lustre  was  there  any 
thing  to  make  them  agreeable  objects.  This  habit  of  walking 
with  his  eyes  on  the  ground  gave  him  a  meditative  air,  and 
indeed  Mr.  Pigwidguon  was  of  a  meditative  turn ;  but  I  believe 
the  general  subject  of  his  meditations  was  the  contents  of  the 
Vicar's  pot,  or  whatever  might  happen  to  be  turning  on  the 
spits  of  such  of  his  neighbours  and  customers  as  he  was  wont  to 
sponge  on. 

"  We  are  all  partial,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott,  when  the  conver 
sation  returned  to  Reuben's  oratory,  after  a  tolerably  smart  exer 
cise  of  the  knife  and  fork,  particul  irly  by  the  apothecary  and  his 
son, — "  We  are  all  partial,  and  it  is  only  natural  I  should,  at  all 
events,  but  I  do  think  Reuben  shows  a  decided  talent  for  public 
speaking, — don't  you  think  so,  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  ?" 


156  'HE    UNIVERSAL      JENIUS  J 

Mr.  Pig^idgeon  thought  that  nobody  could  th'ink  any 
thing  else,  after  the  speech  he  had  had  the  pleasure  and  privilege 
of  hearing. 

"  It  is  anything  but  surprising,"  proceeded  the  mother,  "  to 
find  that  the  universal  opinion  of  his  college  friends  is,  that  with 
such  talents,  his  success  at  the  bar,  if  he  was  to  go  to  it,  would  be 
beyond  all  question." 

"  The  apothecary  only  nodded  ;  he  did  not  like  openly  to  go 
to  so  great  a  length  as  this  along  with  Mrs.  Medlicott,  without 
having  some  little  inkling  of  the  Vicar's  sentiments. 

Mrs.  Medlicott  saw  that  it  was  necessary  to  draw  her  husband 
out  in  order  to  prevent  the  conversation  from  dropping,  so  she 
asked  him  pointedly  what  his  opinion  was. 

"  About  what  ?"  said  the  Vicar.  When  Mrs.  Medlicott  took 
the  trouble  of  informing  him,  all  she  got  for  her  pains  was  sun 
dry  repetitions  of  the  word  "nonsense." 

"  Nonsense !"  repeated  his  wife  with  asperity,  "  why  do  you 
say  nonsense  ?" 

"  You  wished  to  have  my  opinion,"  said  the  Vicar,  "  and  I 
have  given  it  to  you  frankly  ;  you  know  as  well  as  I  do  that 
Reuben  is  to  get  a  fellowship  and  take  orders." 

Then  there  ensued  a  disagreeable  silence  for  a  few  moments. 

"  I  must  say,"  said  the  apothecary,  breaking  it,  and  trying  to 
gratify  the  mother  without  contradicting  the  father,  "  after  the 
very  clever  and  very  eloquent  speech  which  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
hearing  my  son  read  before  dinner  (and  I  don't  think  he  read  it 
badly),  nobody  can  wonder  at  the  young  man,  who  made  it 
wishing  to  become  a  lawyer,  nor  would  it  be  surprising  if  he 
were  even  to  feel  a  desire  to  go  into  Parliament ;  on  the  other 
hand,  when  1  think  of  what  his  prospects  are  in  the  other  pro 
fession,  with  a  grandfather  who  must  be  a  bishop  sooner  or  later 
— I  have  no  more  doubt  of  it  than  I  have  of  my  own  existence 
— nothing  is  more  natural  than  that  his  excellent  father  should 
have  a  very  strong  leaning  in  favour  of  the  Church.  And  if  the 
Church  is  to  be  my  young  friend's  destination,  what  a  comfort  it 
is  to  think  that  his  oratory  will  not  be  thrown  away  there ; — on 
the  contrary,  it  will  enable  him  to  make  a  fine  figure  in  the 
pulpit." 

"  That  kind  of  thing,"  said  the  Vicar,  meaning  the  specimen 
he  had  heard  of  his  son's  eloquence,  "  would  do  much  better  in 
the  pulpit  than  at  ilio  bar,  <?  ^pend  upon  it." 

"  I  can't  think  so,"  sai'T   Mrs.  Medlicott     Nor  could  Doctor 


OB,  THE   COMIN4.    MAN.  157 

Pigwidgeon  bring  himself  to  think  so  either.  The  Vicar  looked 
as  if  he  cared  very  little  what  Doctor  Pigwidgeon  thought  on 
the  subject. 

"  I  don't  take  it  upon  me  to  decide  the  point,"  said  the 
apothecary  ;  "  but  I'll  take  the  liberty  of  proposing  the  health  of 
my  eloquent  young  friend.  Let  him  choose  what  profession  he 
may,  he  will  be  a  credit  to  his  parents  and  an  ornament  to  his 
country." 

Mr.  Pigwidgeon  wanted  an  excuse  for  another  glass  of  port 
before  he  took  his  leave,  which  he  did  immediately  after  toasting 
Reuben.  As  it  was  growing  late,  his  son  rose  at  the  same  time 
to  accompany  his  father  home. 

"The  boy  is  just  as  tit  for  the  bar,  as  he  is  to  be  prime  min 
ister,"  said  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  senior  to  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  junior,  as 
they  walked  bome  together,  pretty  well  replenished  with  the  Vi 
car's  plain  but  excellent  fare. 

"  But  didn't  you  think  it  a  oeautiful  speech  ?"  said  the  son. 

"  Bah,  flummery,"  said  the  father. 

"  I'm  drowsy,"  said  the  Doctor,  yawning  with  might  and 
main. 

"So  am  I,"  said  the  apothecary,  making  the  same  de 
monstration. 


CHAPTER  IIL 

MRS.   MEDLICOTT  HAS  A   LUCID   INTERVAL-— A   STORM  SUCCEEDED  BY 
A   CALM. 

MRS.  MEDLICOTT  had  her  lucid  intervals  like  other  women,  and 
in  one  of  those  \vhich  occurred  the  following  day,  she  was  prov 
identially  brought  to  see  the  folly  of  encouraging  her  son  in  the 
notions  which  Hyacinth  Primrose  and  Cains  Marcius  Coriolanus 
had  put  into  his  head.  She  locked  up  Reuben's  orations  in  a 
certain  omnium  gatherum  press  of  hers  which  contained  other 
treasures  of  the  same  kind,  and  wrote  him  one  of  the  few  really 
sensible  letters  which  he  had  ever  received  from  her.  The  Dean 
would  never  have  heard  a  word  of  the  matter  if  it  had  not  been 
for  Mr.  Pigwidgeon's  gossiping,  in  which,  as  usual,  there  was  al 
ways  a  spice  of  malice,  even  when  his  best  friends  wero  the  sub 
ject  of  his  tongue.  The  only  excuse  for  the  apothecary  was,  that 


i58  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

be  was  in  the  habit  of  making  so  free  at  table,  that  he  never  re 
tained  a  very  clear  recollection  of  an  after-dinner  conversation. 
He  soon  noised  it  abroad  that  young  Medlicott  was  to  be  a  law 
yer,  contrary  to  his  father's  inclinations,  and  against  his  own  ad 
vice.  We  have  seen  that  among  other  branches  of  his  profes 
sion  he  was  a  chiropodist,  in  plain  English  a  corncutter.  Among 
his  patients  in  that  line  was  l)ean  Wyndham's  friend  and  crony, 
Mr.  Oldport,  and  it  happening  about  this  time  that  the  Canon 
stood  in  need  of  Mr.  Pigwidgeon's  services,  the  apothecary  drove 
in  his  gig  to  visit  him ;  and  to  beguile  the  time  which  his  opera 
tions  occupied,  as  well  as  the  pain  which  they  occasioned,  what 
better  could  he  do  than  to  retail  all  the  little  parochial  news  he 
could  collect,  and  it  would  have  been  strange  if  he  had  omitted 
the  latest  intelligence  from  the  Vicarage,  so  likely  to  be  interest 
ing  to  a  brother  clergyman.  In  fact,  the  Canon  introduced  the 
subject  himself  by  kindly  inquiring  for  his  friend  the  Vicar. 

"Medlicott's  falling  into  flesh,  of  late,"  he  said,  presenting 
his  foot  to  the  apothecary  as  politely  as  it  is  possible  for  one  man 
to  present  another  with  that  part  of  the  person. 

"  He's  too  heavy  an  eater,"  said  Mr.  Pigwidgeon.  "  You 
ought  to  caution  him  against  that,"  said  the  Canon.  "  So  I  do," 
answered  Pigwidgeon,  and  so  indeed  perhaps  he  did,  but  it  was 
altogether  by  precept,  not  at  all  by  his  example. 

"  And  how  is  his  clever  son  ?  I  was  greatly  struck  with  him 
one  day  he  dined  with  me.  Talks  a  little  too  much,  but  promi 
ses  to  talk  well.  A  little  of  Coleridge.  Getting  on  well  at  the 
University  ?" 

The  apothecary  wagged  his  head,  and  with  all  his  chins 
shaking  together  gave  his  patient  a  ludicrous  account  of  Reu 
ben's  oratory,  and  the  discussion  to  which  it  had  given  rise  on 
the  subject  of  the  bar,  detailing  especially,  and  with  many  little 
malignant  exaggerations,  the  public  reading  in  -the  Vicar's  gar 
den,  of  the  great  speech  about  Coriolanus,  all  which  extremely 
diverted  the  Canon,  who  said  he  would  have  given  a  golden 
guinea  to  have  been  present,  or  to  have  had  a  peep  over  the 
hedge.  In  short,  Mr.  Pigwidgeon,  partly  through  his  blunder 
ing,  and  partly  through  his  sycophantic  eagerness  to  make  him 
self  agreeable  to  his  patient,  no  matter  at  whose  cost,  left  the 
Canon  under  the  impression  that  Mr.  Medlicott  was  so  excessively 
weak  as  to  be  induced  by  the  puerile  effusions  of  his  son  in  a  de 
bating  society,  to  alter  all  his  plans  for  the  boy's  career  in  life. 
From  Mr.  Oldport  this  intelligence  spread  to  the  Dean,  by  the 


OR,  THE  COMING   MA5.  15t 

most  natural  channel  in  the  world,  as  they  were  regular  corre 
spondents.  The  Dean  happened  to  be  near  Cambridge  at  the 
time ;  the  first  thing  was  to  write  a  brimstone  letter  to  the  ca 
lumniated  Vicar,  and  then  in  a  tempest  of  indignation,  after  the 
true  Sir  Anthony  Absolute  fashion,  he  invaded  Reuben's  chambers. 

Reuben  had  received  his  mother's  letter  of  remonstrance  seve 
ral  days  previously,  had  acquiesced  in  her  views  most  dutifully, 
and  fully  made  up  his  mind  to  adhere  to  his  original  intentions 
of  going  into  orders  as  soon  as  his  academic  race  was  run,  always 
provided  he  felt  the  proper  spiritual  dispositions.  He  was  parti 
cularly  unfortunate  in  the  moment  his  grandfather  chose  for  pay 
ing  him  this  visit,  for  a  volume  of  Blackstone's  Commentaries 
which  Primrose  had  lent  him  was  lying  conspicuously  on  his 
table,  and  he  was  actually  engaged  in  preparing  a  speech  upon 
the  feudal  system,  to  be  made  at  the  next  meeting  of  the  society. 
The  Dean,  therefore,  thought  he  had  caught  him  flagrante  de- 
licto,  and  never  did  father  or  grandfather,  either  on  the  stage,  or 
in  real  life,  deluge  an  unlucky  young  man  with  such  a  flood  of 
abuse  and  invective. 

Reuben  endeavoured  to  speak,  knowing  that  in  a  few  words 
he  could  dispel  the  misapprehension  under  which  the  old  gentle 
man  was  labouring ;  but  he  might  as  well  have  tried  to  gain  an 
audience  in  a  West-Indian  hurricane. 

The  Dean  began  by  telling  him  he  was  no  more  fit  for  the 
law  than  he  was  to  command  the  navy ;  then  he  asked  him  what 
single  qualification  for  the  bar  he  possessed  ? — had  he  the  brain, 
or  even  the  stomach,  which  that  turbulent,  laborious,  and  anxious 
profession  required  ?  No  man  knew  better  than  he,  the  Dean, 
did  what  the  requisites  of  a  lawyer  were.  What  private  means 
had  he  to  support  him  until  there  was  the  remotest  likelihood  of 
being  able  to  support  himself  by  his  profession  ?  A  young  fellow 
without  a  sixpence  in  the  world  !  What  possession  was  he  un 
der  ?  Was  he  out  of  his  senses  ?  Were  his  parents  -in  their 
senses  ?  Here  he  snatched  up  the  book  that  lay  open  on  the 
table,  and  finding  it  was  a  Blackstone,  flung  it  down  with  vio 
lence  on  the  table,  and  resumed  his  tirade  in  a  more  exalted  and 
passionate  tone,  like  "  Boreas  talking  to  Auster,"  as  Dr.  Donne 
expresses  it. 

"  You  want  the  physical  qualifications,  boy,  I  tell  you. 
There's  nothing  of  the  bull-dog  in  you.  Who  are  your  advisers  ? 
You  don't  know  yourself.  Who  has  stuffed  your  head  with  this 
nonsense  ?  What  business  have  you  in  debating  societies  ?  Mind 
your  mathematics.  What's  Coriolanus  to  vou.  sir  ?" 


160  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

"  Nothing,"  replied  Reuben,  with  a  simplicity  which  tcv  k  the 
choleric  Dean  by  surprise,  and  checked  his  violence  for  a  mo 
ment ;  but,  noticing  the  papers  that  were  strewed  about,  he 
snatched  some  of  them  up,  and  perceiving  at  once  that  they  were 
notes  of  a  speech,  and  a  speech  on  a  legal  subject,  he  blew  an 
other  gale  stifi'er  than  before,  if  that  had  been  possible. 

Reuben  acted  extremely  well  through  a  scene  in  which  he  had 
a  difficult  part  to  play.  After  this  first  unsuccessful  interruption, 
he  preserved  a  rigid  but  most  respectful  silence  (only  glowing 
with  indignation  when  his  grandfather  most  unjustly  called  in 
question  his  brains),  until  the  time  for  reply  was  fully  come,  and 
then  he  quietly  explained  what,  if  he  had  been  suffered  to  ex 
plain  before,  would  have  saved  his  grandfather  the  trouble  and 
physical  exertion  of  making  such  a  hubbub  about  nothing. 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  the  Dean,  sitting  down  to 

rest  himself,  and  at  the  same  time  wiping  his  broad  forehead ; 
for  he  had  talked  himself  into  a  streaming  perspiration. 

Reuben  showed  him  his  mother's  letter,  which  pleased  him, 
and  he  even  condescended  to  wish  he  had  seen  it  before  he  had 
written  to  the  Vicar  under  his  erroneous  impression. 

"  Who  is  Pigwidgeon  ?"  said  the  Dean. 

"  Our  apothecary,"  said  Reuben. 

"He  must  have  read  your  speech,  or  heard  it  read,"  said  the 
Dean.  "  I  made  a  speech  about  Coriolanus  myself,  when  I  was 
a  freshman." 

Reuben  smiled  at  this  admission,  and  thought  it  not  improba 
ble  his  grandfather  had  made  a  speech  on  the  feudal  system  also. 

"But  pray,  sir."  he  asked  eagerly,  "was  Mr.  Pigwidgeon 
your  informant  ?" 

"He  informed  my  informant,"  said  his  grandfather. 

Reuben  now  tiaw  to  whom  he  was  indebted  for  this  unpleasant 
fracas  with  his  venerable  relative,  and  he  did  not  allow  the  post 
to  leave  Cambridge  without  bearing  a  letter  to  his  father ;  the 
effect  of  which  was  that  the  Vicar  walked  into  the  village  within 
half  an  hour  after  he  received  it,  and  administered  a  bitter  pill 
to  the  apothecary,  in  the  .form  of  a  very  severe  rebuke  for  his  un 
warrantable  violation  of  the  confidences  of  private  life.  Mrs. 
Medlicott  was  highly  incensed  also  ;  so  that  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  en 
tirely  lost  the  good-will  of  the  Vicarage  by  his  shabby  behaviour 
in  this  affair,  and  never  afterwards  reinstated  himself  completely. 

Reuben  had  never  known  his  grandfather  so  gracious  as  he 
became,  all  of  a  sudden,  on  finding  that  his  wishes  were  still  as 


OR,  THE  COMING   MAN.  161 

the  laws  of  the  Medes  and  Persians  with  his  daughter  and  her 
husband.  He  insisted  on  Reuben  dining  with  him  at  his  hotel, 
and  Hyacinth  Primrose  happening  to  drop  in  before  he  left  the 
college,  he  extended  the  same  civility  to  him.  In  the  cov  ~se  of 
the  day  he  strolled  about  a  great  deal  with  the  two  young  men, 
like  some  redoubted  peripatetic  philosopher  with  his  pupils  dan 
gling  after  him.  To  listen  reverentially  to  Doctor  Wyndham, 
receiving  everything  that  fell  from  his  lips  as  if  it  were  honey  of 
Hybla  or  gold  of  Ophir,  was  an  infallible  receipt  for  keeping  him 
in  good  humour ;  and  it  was  sometimes  well  worth  while  to  pay 
him  this  sort  of  homage,  for  when  he  was  serene  and  pleased 
with  his  company,  no  man  discoursed  more  instructively  or  en 
tertainingly,  and  for  young  *nen  his  conversation  was  particularly 
improving.  On  the  preset  occasion,  after  making  some  excel 
lent  remarks  upon  debatit  ,  societies,  and  balancing  their  advan 
tages  and  dangers  with  g*.;at  shrewdness  and  discrimination,  he 
talked  largely  and  eloquently  upon  the  profession  of  the  law,  re 
turning  in  good  humour  to  the  subject  which  he  had  handled 
shortly  before  in  so  termagant  a  fashion.  His  fluency,  vigour, 
and  knowledge  of  life,  surprised  and  delighted  Primrose,  who 
was  now  in  his  company  for  the  first  time.  The  Dean  recurred 
to  his  idea  of  the  bull-dog,  and  when  he  heard  that  Primrose 
was  designed  for  the  bar,  he  hoped  he  had  a  dash  of  that  pug 
nacious  breed  in  him. 

"  A  lawyer,"  he  repeated,  "  is  nothing  without  it ;  he  wants 
it  every  day  of  his  life,  either  to  bully  a  witness,  beard  a  judge, 
wrangle  with  his  brethren,  or  thrust  his  own  views  of  the  case 
down  the  throats  of  the  jury." 

Primrose  ventured  to  say  that  something  of  the  spaniel 
seemed  often  to  be  a  very  useful  element  in  the  lawyer's  charac 
ter. 

"  The  crown-lawyers,  for  instance,"  said  the  Dean,  approving 
of  Primrose's  remark ;  "but  what  say  you  to  a  cross  between  the 
bull-dog  and  spaniel,  perhaps  that  would  be  the  best  dog  of  all." 

"  I  think,  sir,"  said  Reuben  modestly,  "  a  dog  of  that  breed 
would  make  a  good  attorney-general." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  Dean,  poking  his  grandscn  in  the  ribs 
with  the  end  of  his  stick ;  "  very  well,  indeed, — and  now  let  us 
go  to  dinner." 


162  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  } 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    DEAN    AT   THE    TABLE. 

THE  Dean  had  not  said  a  word  from  which  it  was  possible  to 
infer  tlmt  he  was  not  quite  alone  at  Cambridge,  so  the  astonish 
ment  of  Reuben  may  be  imagined  when,  on  entering  the  drawing- 
room,  he  found  his  grand  mamma  Blanche  waiting  to  receive  him. 
This  totally  unexpected  meeting  with  his  old  flame,  now  placed 
in  so  singular  a  relation  towards  him, — one  so  utterly  inconsistent 
with  the  slightest  remnant  of  the  feelings  which  she  formerly 
inspired  (even  making  such  feelings  absolutely  ridiculous) — 
might  well  have  fluttered  a  less  susceptible  young  man  than 
Reuben  Medlicott.-  This  was  his  first  meeting  with  Blanche  since 
she  made  her  strange  marriage ;  indeed  since  the  day  he  left  that 
unfortunate  essay  on  shoemakers  upon  her  table,  in  which  lie  had 
but  too  incautiously  disclosed  the  state  of  his  heart.  Fortunately 
the  circumstances  of  the  meeting  prevented  the  embarrassment 
(which  was  in  some  degree  mutual)  from  taking  a  sentimental 
turn.  It  was  impossible  to  be  sentimental  in  Dean  Wyndham's 
company ;  and  the  near  approach  of  dinner,  with  the  presence 
of  Hyacinth  Primrose,  had  a  further  tendency  to  place  the  inter 
course  between  Reuben  and  Mrs.  Wynclham  at  once  upon  a 
rational  and  easy  foundation.  In  fact,  ere  dinner  was  announced, 
Reuben's  agitation  was  nearly  over;  and  before  the  close  of  the 
evening,  he  was  almost  on  the  same  terms  with  Blanche  as  he 
might  have  been  with  any  other  handsome  young  woman  who 
had  taken  a  fancy  to  marry  the  old  Dean.  Blanche  was  greatly 
improved  by  matrimony,  but  not  so  much  in  her  person,  perhaps, 
as  in  her  air  and  manners.  The  little  state  of  the  matron  became 
her ;  its  independence  and  dignity  had  communicated  a  graceful 
firmness  to  her  deportment ;  and  though  she  still  had  that  soft, 
earnest  expression  in  her  eyes,  there  was  an  animation  in  them 
now  which  was  no  doubt  due  to  her  enlarged  experience  of  life, 
and  a  corresponding  freedom  and  spirit  in  her  conversation,  to  be 
attributed,  of  course,  to  the  same  cause.  Her  style  of  dress  was 
altered  considerably ;  as  became  the  wife  of  a  clergyman  and 
dignitary  of  the  church,  she  was  attired  with  extreme  but  most 
becoming  simplicity,  no  longer  in  the  gayest  hues  of  the  season, 
as  when  she  was  one  of  the  three  Sherries. 

Two  bonnets  were  lying  on  a  sofa,  with  other  miscellaneous 


OR,  THE  COMING   MAN.  163 

female  properties,  seemingly  thrown  there,  because,  in  an  hotel, 
the  bedroom  was  probably  at  a  considerable  distance.  Mrs 
"\Vyndham  saw  Reuben's  eye  directed  to  the  bonnets. 

"  I  am  not  the  only  lady  of  our  party,"  she  said,  smiling. 

"  ^Yhere's  Catherine  ? "  cried  the  Dean,  almost  at  the  same 
mstant 

Reuben  was  alarmed,  thinking  that  Catherine  was  in  all  pro 
bability  the  eldest  Miss  Barsac,  of  whom  he  retained  a  disagree 
able  recollection.  But  his  alarm  was  only  of  momentary  duration, 
for  the  door  opened,  and  in  came  the  woman,  whom  of  all  others, 
next  to  his  mother,  he  would  have  wished  her  to  prove — his 
bountiful  and  "blooming  aunt  Mountjoy.  She  had  scarcely  time 
to  embrace  him,  when  the  Dean  seized  her  arm  and  led  her  into 
the  dining-room,  through  a  door  which  a  servant  had  just  thrown 
open.  Primrose  presented  his  arm  to  his  old  acquaintance,  Mrs. 
Wyndam.  Probaby  a  more  agreeable  party  of  five  never  met  at 
a  dinner-table.  The  Dean,  no  doubt,  talked  more  than  his  share; 
but  as  he  eat  more  than  his  share  also,  he  left  the  rest  considera 
ble  opportunities  of  conversing,  and  they  were  not  neglected. 
Reuben,  seated  between  his  pretty  grandmother  and  his  charming 
aunt,  from  both  of  whom  he  had  been  so  long  separated,  basking 
in  the  Dean's  capricious  ^avour,  and  with  the  most  intimate  and 
most  brilliant  of  his  university  friends  near  him,  could  not  have 
been  much  happier  had  he  been  at  a  feast  of  nectar  and  ambrosia 
in  one  of  the  Islands  of  the  Blest.  lie  appeared  indeed  that  day 
to  great  advantage,  confirmed  the  opinion  of  his  talents  which 
almost  everybody  was«disposed  to  entertain,  and  pleased  Mrs. 
Mountjoy  so  very  much,  that,  although  she  was  not  in  the  habit 
of  writing  to  her  sister,  she  could  not  refrain  the  next  day  from 
doing  so,  for  the  pleasure  of  letting  her  know  what  she  thought 
of  her  nephew,  what  a  splendid  future  she  predicted  for  him,  and 
what  an  engaging  young  man  he  already  was. 

Mrs.  Mountjoy  was  one  of  those  women  of  whom  it  is  impos 
sible  to  speak  in  too  flattering  terms — impossible  to  think  of 
without  wishing  to  be  near  them — impossible  to  sit  beside 
without  extreme  danger  of  falling  in  love  with,  unless,  like 
Reuben,  you  happened  to  be  a  nephew,  which  alters  the  matter. 
Her  beauties  were  ample,  and  her  heart  was  large  in  proportion. 
In  short,  she  was  an  angel  all  but  the  wings ;  and  a  stout  pair  of 
pinions  it  would  have  taken  to  have  borne  a  seraph  of  her  pro 
portions  through  the  empyrean. 

The  Dean,  though  he  seemed  sometimes  to  forget  himself,  and 


164  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  | 

treat  Blanche  n  the  footing  of  a  child,  patting  her  on  the  head, 
or  chucking  her  under  the  chin,  was  manifestly  influenced  by  her, 
and  very  much  to  his  advantage,  in  more  ways  than  one.  Reu 
ben  could  see  at  a  glance  that  his  grandfather  was  wonderfully 
softened  since  the  period  when  he  knocked  the  boys  about  at  Mrs. 
Barsac's  evening  parties ;  and  his  aunt  pi'ivately  informed  him 
that  though  she  attributed  the  change  partly  to  the  society  of  his 
young  wife,  she  considered  it  still  more  owing  to  the  improve 
ment  of  his  circumstances  by  the  addition  of  Blanche's  fortune, 
and  to  a  temporary  withdrawal  from  his  building  speculations,  by 
which  he  had  burnt  his  fingers  so  severely.  This  was  a  mere 
conjecture  of  his  daughter's,  and  not  very  well  founded,  as  we 
shall  soon  have  occasion  to  know. 

"  But  hush,  the  Dean  is  talking,  and  we  must  listen,  my  dear," 
said  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  stopping  in  the  midst  of  her  domestic  expla 
nations. 

The  Dean  was  talking  of  fluency  as  a  result  and  a  symptorr 
of  shnllowness.  "  Full  men,"  he  said,  "  are  seldom  fluent.  They 
are  eloquent,  but  eloquence  and  fluency  are  different  things. 
Young  men  discourse  fluently  in  proportion  to  their  ignorance, 
not  to  their  knowledge,  of  a  subject.  There  is  no  more  worthless 
or  more  dangerous  acquirement  than  eloquence  in  the  vulgar 
sense  of  the  word.  Bruce  remarked  of  the  Abyssinians,  '  that 
they  were  all  orators,'  '  as  indeed,'  he  adds,  'are  most  barbarians.' 
The  observation  is  extremely  applicable  to  an  unfortunate  country 
not  a  thousand  miles  oil',  with  which  we  are  very  closely  con 
nected.  I  have  always  thought  the  g»eat  misfortune  of  that 
country  was  that  when  the  family  of  the  Shallows  settled  there, 
the  family  of  Master  Silence  did  not  accompany  them." 

All  laughed — Primrose  was  particularly  amused  by  this  fancy 
of  the  Dean's,  and  said  he  had  no  notion  so  mach  about  Ireland 
was  to  be  learned  from  Shakspeare. 

"  His  plays  are  full  of  Irish  characters,"  said  the  Dean. 
"  What  do  you  say  of  such  swaggering  poltroons  as  Pistol  an<f 
Parolles,  or  that  facetious,  foul-moutl.  ed  blusterer,  Thersites  ?  Ar* 
they  not  Irish  to  the  back-bone  ?  Can't  you  fancy  Pistol  mem 
ber  for  Limerick,  and  Thersites  representing  the  city  of  Dublin  ?" 

"  But,  sir,"  said  Reuben,  "  speaking  of  Homer's  Thersites,  is 
not  that  a  very  effective  speech  which  he  makes  in  the  first  book 
of  the  Iliad?" 

"  Very  effective,"  muttered  the  Dean,  "  but  only  in  bringing 
down  the  staff  of  Ulysses  upon  the  speaker's  shoulders.  Homer 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  165 

makes  Thersites  the  representative  of  talent  without  worth,  elo 
quence  without  character.  Pope  well  observes  that  had  Ulysses 
made  the  same  speech,  the  troops  would  have  sailed  that  night 
for  Greece.  Character  is  to  an  individual  what  position  is  to  a 
general.  The  world  asks  who  a  man  is  before  it  gives  him  an 
audience,  or  at  least  before  it  hears  him  a  second  time.  We 
must  not  only  take  thought  what  we  say,  but  from  whence  we 
say  it.  Even  in  society,  the  prosperity  of  a  jest  depends  upon  the 
consideration  of  the  man  who  makes  it,  often  upon  his  place  at 
the  table.  Young  men  ought  to  reflect  upon  this,  and  take  more 
pains  to  make  themselves  respected  than  admired." 

Primrose  tried  to  draw  out  the  Dean  on  the  question  of  Catho 
lic  Emancipation,  but  upon  that  subject  he  was  reserved,  and  what 
he  did  say  was  oracular  and  ambiguous.  He  dropped  it  soon, 
and  preferred  giving  an  account  of  his  varrious  honeymoon  expe 
ditions,  swinging  himself  about  on  his  chair  in  his  original  man 
ner,  and  threatening  destruction  to  all  the  glasses  and  decanters 
within  the  reach  of  his  arms.  His  last  excursion,  with  Blanche, 
had  been  in  Switzerland.  Primrose  was  amazed  at  the  feats  of 
pedestrianism  performed  by  a  man  considerably  upwards  of  sixty, 
and  could  scarcely  believe  some  of  them,  though  solemnly 
attested  by  his  wife.  One  of  his  walks  was  from  Lauterbrunnen 
over  the  Werigern  Alp,  to  the  summit  of  the  Faulhorn,  "  no  jour 
ney  that  of  a  sabbath  day."  Blanche  accompanied  him  on  horse 
back.  She  had  followed  him  also  on  another  great  excursion  to 
the  glaciers  of  the  Rhone. 

"  I  never  saw  a  mountain  in  my  life,"  said  the  Dean,  "  that  I 
did  not  get  to  the  top  of  it,  if  it  was  possible ;  when  I  was  first 
in  Switzerland,  I  was  a  very  young  man,  and  if  I  did  not  ascend 
Mont  Blanc,  it  was  not  that  the  mountain  was  so  high,  but  that 
my  pockets  were  so  low.  The  ascent  is  an  expensive  thing,  for 
you  must  take  a  regiment  of  guides  with  you.  Another  passion 
of  mine  was  for  the  sources  of  rivers.  I  have  seen  the  sources  of 
most  of  the  great  rivers  of  Europe.  Had  I  devoted  myself  to  it, 
I  would  have  discovered  the  springs  of  the  Nile  long  ago.  I 
have  no  doubt  of  it."  • 

"  But  you  have  been  in  Egypt,  sir  ? "  said  Reuben. 

"  Yes,  but  not  on  a  matrimonial  excursion.  I  went  further 
up  the  Nile  than  any  man  livirg,  and  I  have  seen  more  of  Pales 
tine  than  any  man  living  either ;  I  was  on  the  top  of  Mount 
Sinai,  which  nobody  in  Europe  has  to  say  but  myself.  In  fact, 
there  is  nothing  that  I  have  uot  done  in  the  way  of  travelling ;  I 


166  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

rode  everything  rideable,  shot  everything  shootable,  swam  every 
thing  swimmable,  climbed  everything  climbable,  and  eat  every* 
thing  eatable,  in  every  country  I  visited." 

"  I  believe,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  "  when  you  were  first 
married  you  went  to  Scotland." 

Mrs.  Mountjoy  and  Mrs.  Medlicott  were  the  Dean's  daughters 
by  his  second  wife ;  his  first  marriage  was  very  early  in  life ;  it 
bore  no  fruit,  and  seemed  now  even  to  himself  an  occurrence  of 
ancient  history. 

"  I  was  married  in  Scotland,"  said  the  Dean,  in  reply  to  his 
daughter's  observation. 

"  Not  at  Gretna,  I  hope,  sir,"  said  Hyacinth  Primrose. 

"  Not  at  Gretna ;  all  was  regular ;  but  it  was  in  Scotland,  so 
that  I  took  the  tour  of  the  Highlands.  Nobody  ever  travelled  so 
far  north  in  Scotland  as  I  did ;  I  visited  every  lake,  all  the 
islands,  and  from  the  Gallon  Hill  to  the  loftiest  peak  in  the  coun 
try,  if  it  was  a  sin  to  do  homage  to  nature  on  the  high  places,  I 
committed  that  sin  upon  every  one  of  them.  But  it  is  not  nature 
we  worship  in  such  scenes,  but  the  God  of  nature,  and  that  is  only 
the  true  religion.  My  second  honeymoon  I  spent  in  the  Pyrenees, 
so  that  there's  a  chain  of  mountains  for  you  for  every  chain  in 
which  Hymen  bound  me." 

"  You  will  take  your  next  wife  to  the  Himalayas,  sir,"  said 
Blanche  quietly  and  pleasantly. 

"  Not  further  than  the  Andes,"  said  the  Dean,  laughing,  with  a 
swing  of  one  of  his  arms  that  knocked  his  glass  of  claret  off  the  table. 

"  No,"  he  added,  with  a  vigorous  sigh,  never  minding  the  glass, 
"  I'll  ascend  no  more  mountains.  My  mountaineering  days  are 
over." 

His  y«»ung  wife  probably  thought  that  he  might  have  saidhia 
marrying  days  were  over,  but  he  cautiously  confined  his  pledge 
to  the  ascent  of  mountains. 

"  Who  will  say  or  sing,  henceforward,"  said  Hyacinth  Prim 
rose  to  his  friend  the  following  morning,  "  that — 

Wint'ry  age  and  youth 
Ne'er  can  v  veil  together? 

I  am  heartily  glad  to  see  the  Dean  so  happy  with  his  young  wile. 
What  a  fine  old  fellow  he  is !" 

"Hyacinth,"  said  Reuben,  "you  have  been  very  Kiiccessful  in 
your  gallery  of  personal  sketches  in  the  '  Cambridge  Miscellanj,' 
you  ought  to  do  my  grandfather." 


OR,    THE   COMING    MAN.  167 

"  A  capital  notion ;  I'll  do  it,  Reuben,  but  I  must  see  more  of 
him.  Is  there  a  chance  of  his  asking  me  to  dinner  again  ?" 

"  A  very  good  chance,  indeed,"  replied  Reuben. 

A  note  from  Mrs.  Wyndham  within  half  an  hour  verified  the 
prediction.  The  young  men  dined  a  second  time  with  the  Dean 
at  his  hotel,  and  Primrose  had  ample  opportunities  of  studying 
the  subject  of  his  intended  sketch  in  the  bosom  of  private  life. 
Hyacinth  made  rapid  way  in  his  favour,  and  in  the  graces  of  Mrs. 
Mountjoy  also.  On  his  return  to  his  chambers  he  made  some 
notes  of  the  most  remarkable  things  that  fell  from  Doctor  Wynd 
ham.  Among  them  was  the  following  : — 

Primrose  had  ventured  flatteringly  to  allude  to  the  bishopric 
which  had  not  yet  been  conferred  upon  the  Dean,  though  so  long 
expected  by  his  family,  and  which,  in  some  respects,  would  have 
been  only  a  just  tribute  to  his  talents  and  character  as  a  Church 
man. 

"  I'll  tell  you  a  tale  of  a  prebend  out  of  old  Burton,"  said 
the  Dean,  "  and  you  may  apply  it  to  a  bishopric  if  you  think  it 
will  fit." 

The  company  were  all  curiosity  and  attention  to  hear  the  stoiy, 
which  the  Dean  related  very  nearly  as  it  may  be  found  in  Burton's 
chapter  on  "  repulses,  injuries,  disgraces,  and  contempts." 

"  In  Moronia  Pia,  or  Moronia  Felix,  I  know  not  whether,  nor 
how  long  since,  nor  in  what  cathedral -church,  a  fat  prebend  fell 
void.  Many  suitors  were  up  in  an  instant.  The  first  had  rich 
friends  and  a  good  purse  :  every  man  supposed  he  would  carry  it. 
The  second  was  my  Lord  Bishop's  Chaplain,  in  whose  gift  it  was: 
he  thought  it  only  his  due.  The  third  was  nobly  bora,  and  ho 
meant  to  get  it  through  his  great  relations  and  allies.  The  fourth 
was  the  deceased  Prebendary's  son  :  his  father  died  in  debt  (for 
the  prebend,  as  it  was  said,)  left  a  wife  and  many  poor  children. 
The  fifth  stood  upon  fair  promises  which  had  been  formerly  made  to 
his  friends  for  the  next  preferment  in  his  Lordship's  gift.  The 
sixth  had  married  a  kinswoman  of  the  Bishop,  and  he  sent  his 
wife  to  sue  for  him.  There  were  several  more,  but  the  twelfth 
and  last  was  a  right  honest  man,  an  excellent  scholar,  a  pious 
minister,  and  a  painful  preacher ;  but  he  had  neither  means  nor 
money  ;  besides  he  hated  such  courses ;  he  could  not  speak  for 
himself,  neither  had  he  any  friends  to  solicit  his  cause,  and  there 
fore  he  made  no  suit,  could  not  expect,  neither  did  he  hope  for, 
or  look  after  it.  The  good  Bishop,  perplexed  among  so  many 
competitors,  and  not  yet  resolved  what  to  do,  at  length  of  his  own 


168  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

accord,  mere  motion,  and  bountiful  nature,  gave  it  freely  to  the 
excellent,  pious  scholar,  altogether  unknown  to  him  but  by  fame. 
The  news  was  no  sooner  published  abroad,  but  all  good  students 
rejoiced,  though  some  would  not  believe  it,  and  some  said  it  was 
a  miracle.  One  among  the  rest  thanked  God  for  it,  and  said, 
'  Nunc  juvat  tandem  Deo  integro  corde  servire.'  You  have  heard 
my  tale  of  a  prebend ;  but,  alas,  it  is  but  a  tale — a  mere  fiction ; 
'twas  never  so,  and  never  like  to  be." 

The  Dean  invitgd  the  young  men  again  for  the  following  day, 
but  when  the  time  came  he  had  gone  up  to  London  on  business, 
and  Mrs.  Wyndham  and  Mrs.  Mountjoy  remained  to  entertain  the 
company.  That  was  no  difficult  matter  ;  but  when  the  day  was 
over,  Mr.  Primrose  had  his  thoughts  more  engaged  with  Mrs. 
Mountjoy  than  with  her  father;  in  fact,  he  gave  Reuben  distinctly 
to  understand  that  nothing  could  prevent  his  falling  over  head 
and  ears  in  love  with  his  aunt  but  her  immediate  departure  from 
Cambridge.  That  event  took  place,  however,  sooner  than  he 
wished,  for  the  Dean  sent  for  his  wife  to  join  him  in  London,  and 
Mrs.  Mountjoy  went  up  to  town  with  her,  having  some  law  busi 
ness  there,  and  intending  soon  to  go  abroad,  for  she  was  a  free 
British  widow,  might  go  where  she  pleaded,  and  had  made  up  her 
mind  to  use  her  liberty.  She  did  not  take  leave  of  Reuben  with 
out  the  tenderest  of  adieus,  giving  him  many  useful  little  hints  of 
the  kind  that  women  alone  can  give,  and  making  him  at  the  same 
time  such  a  substantial  present  as  her  comfortable  circumstances 
enabled  her  to  aftbrd,  while  those  of  Reuben  made  it  most  agreea 
ble  to  him  to  accept.  As  to  Mr.  Primrose,  if  she  had  any  senti 
ments  towards  him  beyoifd  those  which  most  engaging  young 
men  inspire  upon  a  short  acquaintance,  Mrs.  Mountjoy  kept  them 
perfectly  private,  and  they  were  not  of  a  nature  to  alter  her  pur 
pose  of  leaving  England. 

Twelve  months  elapsed  before  Hyacinth  executed  his  purpose 
of  sketching  the  character  of  Dean  Wyndham  for  the  Gallery  of 
Eminent  Living  Divines,  in  the  "  Cambridge  Miscellany."  Pro 
bably  his  admiration  of  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  and  the  desire  to  please 
her,  made  him  take  unusual  pains  -with  this  portrait,  for  it  was 
done  with  great  spirit  and  graphic  ability,  and  made  a  considera 
ble  noise  at  the  University  and  in  the  literary  circles  of  London. 
The  Dean  was  not  long  before  he  found  out  who  the  author  was, 
and  though  a  few  of  his  faults  were  touched  on,  yet  the  censure 
was  so  adroitly  mingled  with  praise,  that  upon  the  whole  it  grati 
fied  him  extremely,  and  gave  Primrose  the  first  place  in  hia  favour, 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  169 

of  all  the  young  men  at  Caml  ridge.  Reuben  sent  it  to  his  aunt 
Mountjoy  at  Paris,  where  it  was  copied  into  GalignanVs  Messenger, 
a  «ircumstance  which  added  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  Dean 
enormously. 


CHAPTER  V. 

A  NBW   EMPLOYMENT. 

BUT  what  was  Reuben  to  do?  His-  grandfather  left  Cambridge 
without  taking  the  thought  or  the  trouble  of  advising  or  instruct 
ing  him  upon  that  head.  In  fact,  the  old  gentleman  had  enough 
of  business  on  his  hands,  between  his  books  and  his  bricklayers, 
without  taking  on  himself  the  office  of  standing  counsel  to  his 
grandson,  and  the  only  wonder  was  that  he  interfered  in  his  af 
fairs  at  all,  even  in  the  hasty,  intemperate  way  that  has  been 
described. 

But  Reuben  was  too  young  to  be  left  so  much  as  he  was,  at 
this  critical  period  of  his  life,  to  his  own  ingenious  devices,  or 
those  of  his  friend  Primrose.  The  Church  was,  in  one  respect,  a 
most  unfortunate  choice  for  him.  It  left  two  or  three  years  upon 
his  hands,  a  space  of  time  which  it  seemed  impossible  to  fill  up 
with  mere  theological  studies,  and  which  he  was  therefore  only 
too  much  inclined  and  too  much  encafcrnged  to  fritter  away  in  a 
variety  of  trifling  and  irrelevant  pursuits.  It  seemed  always  time 
enough  to  sit  clown  to  study  for  ordination ;  and  besides,  until 
the  time  drew  near,  how  could  he  be  assured,  upon  anything  like 
good  grounds,  that  he  was  morally  justified  in  entering  a  pro 
fession  which,  much  to  his  credit,  he  had  not  brought  himself  to 
regard  in  the  secular  way  in  which  he  saw  it  regarded  by  most 
of  the  men  about  him.  Thus,  if  he  put  aside  the  law,  it  was  not 
so  much  to  embrace  divinity  in  its  stead,  as  to  give  himself  up  to 
alternate  fits  of  total  indolence,  or  activity  of  a  not  much  more 
profitable  kind.  He  did  not  even  cultivate  literature  with  the 
energy  of  Primrose,  who  acquired  not  only  character,  but  money, 
by  his  contributions  to  several  periodicals.  Reuben  was  too  fas 
tidious,  too  slow,  and  too  uncertain,  to  produce  with  the  rapidity 
indispensable  to  a  journalist,  or  the  punctuality  of  which  only  an 
editor  kn  nvs  the  importance.  At  seveial  inteivak  during  these 
6 


170  THE    UNIVERSAL    GKMuS  | 

years  ho  tried  his  hand  at  grinding,  not  knife-grin. ling,  birt  grind 
ing  the  edges  of  blunt  intellects.  This  was  lucrative,  but  il  pleased 
his  father  more  than  it  did  his  mother,  and  he  did  not  stk'k  to  it 
very  long;  in  fact,  he  discovered  (no  doubt  with  the  aid  of  his 
mother's  spectacles)  that,  whatever  faculties  lie  might  possess  for 
sublimer  things,  he  was  "little  better  than  a  dunce  at  grinding." 

These  were  his  own  words  in  one  of  his  fetters  home.  Thy 
next  day  a  letter  from  the  Dean  at  Westbury  informed  him  most 
unceremoniously,  that  he  was  nomim.ted  private  tutor  to  a  noble 
family  in  a  northern  county.  His  grandfather  had  settled  all  the 
preliminaries,  the  terms,  the  duties,  the  quando  and  the  quid  pro 
quo,  in  short  everything ;  Reuben  had  only  to  pack  his  portman 
teau  and  book  himself  for  Westmoreland — an  obedience  which 
he  rendered  much  against  the  grain,  though  he  was  not  nearly 
BO  much  hurt  as  his  mother  was  by  the  arbitrary  fashion  in  which 
an  arrangement  was  made,  in  itself  sufficiently  distasteful. 

The  life,  however,  which  Reuben  led  for  several  months  with 
his  pupils,  Lord  Appleby  and  Mr.  Portly,  was  as  easy  a  form  of 
existence  as  can  possibly  be  imagined.  Their  father,  the  Earl  of 
Whitehaven,  was  a  widower,  resident  abroad ;  and  his  sons,  more 
studious  of  the  pleasures  of  the  chas^  and  the  table,  than  of  those 
higher  delights  to  which  their  preceptor  would  have  led  them, 
paid  every  attention  to  Reuben,  except  attention  to  his  lectures. 
They  left  him  in  undisturbed  possession  of  a  good  library  flu  ring 
the  day,  and  when  the  critical  hour  of  dinner  arrived,  they  tooK 
the  best  possible  care  of  him,  initiated  him  in  many  mysteries  oi 
the  kitchen,  and  for  gastpfciomic  reasons,  never  imposed  on  him 
the  duty  of  carving.  The  only  way  in  which  Reuben  found  it 
practicable  to  instil  anv  classical  taste  into  his  noble  pupils  was 
by  awakening  their  curiosity  on  the  methods  of  hunting  ana 
cooking  in  use  among  the  ancients.  They  were  equally  aston 
ished  and  delighted  to  learn  that  there  existed  treatises  on  hunt 
ing  and  fishing  by  Greek  and  Latin  authors,  and  that  Mrs.  Glasse 
and  Dr.  Kite-inner  were  not  withoiit  their  types  and  parallels  IB 
Rome  and  Athens.  Upon  these  topics,  and  upon  ancient  wines, 
they  would  even  draw  their  tutor  out,  and  lead  him  to  expatiate 
at  breakfast  or  dinner. 

When  Reuben  mentioned  that  t:e  great  Xenophon  had  writ 
ten  a  work  on  sporting  dogs,  and  another  on  horses,  Lord  Ap- 
pleby  would  smile,  and  cry  "  indeed !"  But  though  there  was 
an  English  translation  of  the  work  on  horses  in  the  library,  ho 
went  so  far  as  to  take  it  down.  Mr.  Portly  was  partial  to 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  171 


anecdotes  of  Apicius  and  Lucullus,  and  when  Reuben  Kild  of 
those  wonderful  dishes  of  nightingales'  tongues  patronised  by 
ancient  epicures,  the  brothers  invariably  wondered  whether  there 
were  nightingales  enough  in  their  neighbourhood  to  make  a  pie 
or  a  fricassee. 

Reuben  made  no  illiberal  use  of  his  own  tongue  in  West 
moreland,  but  there  was  this  excuse  for  him,  that  he  had  gener 
ally  to  iind  talk  for  the  whole  party,  particularly  during  the  la 
bours  of  dinner,  and  after  the  fatigues  of  the  chase.  It  was 
probably  now  that  he  first  acquired  the  habit  of  lecturing  in  com 
pany,  and  considering  a  party  collected  round  the  dinner-table, 
or  a  group  in  a  drawing-room,  as  an  audience  which  it  was  his 
proper  function  to  address,  entertain,  or  enlighten.  It  was  now 
likewise,  that  he  devoted  himself  for  the  first  time  systematically 
to  the  study  of  words  and  phrases,  independently  of  ideas  and 
information.  He  began  to  keep  a  MS.  book  in  which  he  gradu 
ally  accumulated  a  prodigious  stock  of  metaphors,  similes,  ima 
ges,  allegories,  tropes,  figures  and  allusions,  taken  from  every 
work  that  fell  in  his  way,  and  classified  after  a  plan  of  his  own, 
so  as  to  have  them  ready  for  use  upon  every  occasion,  like  the 
arms  in  a  magazine.  He  made  another  book  of  quotations, 
marshalled  according  to  subjects,  and  provided  with  an  index  for 
easy  reference  ;  nor  was  he  content  with  any  of  the  existing  col 
lections  of  synonymes,  but  commenced  the  formation  of  a  very 
extensive  one  for  his  private  purposes,  so  as  to  qualify  himself 
(we  may  presume)  to  express  everything  he  might  possibly  have 
to  say  in  every  form  in  which  it  was  capable  of  being  expressed  ; 
no  doubt  considering  it  a  shabby  thing  in  a  speaker  to  have  but 
one  or  two  -suiis  to  clothe  a  thought  in,  although  they  should  hap 
pen  to  tit  it  ever  so  well,  and  exhibit  it  to  the  best  advantage. 

Occasionally  the  disciples  would  leave  their  master  for  weeks 
together,  to  join-  a  shooting-party  in  Scotland,  or  on  some  other 
excursion  of  pleasure.  During  one  of  these  lonely  intervals  our 
opal-minded  student  devoted  himself  to  a  little  course  of  reading 
in  heraldry,  a  subject  upon  which  the  library  at  Appleby  con 
tained  some  very  quaint  and  rare  books. 

Reuben  commenced  taking  extracts  from  the  works  now  at 
his  command,  originally  with  a  view  to  illustrate  the  armorial 
bearings  of  the  different  English  bishoprics  ;  but  his  ideas  extended 
as  he  advanced,  and  before  his  labours  were  over,  his  papers  con 
tained  materials  for  a  curious  essay  on  heraldic  zoology.  This 
paper  saw  the  light  very  soon  after  it  was  writtc  a  }  for,  happen- 


172  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

ing  to  meet,  in  a  neighbouring  country-house,  an  oflicious,  tut 
apparently  good-natured  little  fellow,  of  the  name  of  Griffin,  who 
was  an  enthusiast  on  everything  connected  with  heraldry,  Reuben 
fell  into  conversation  with  him  on  the  subject,  and  on  mentioning 
his  essay,  Griffin  ottered  to  get  it  inserted  in  the  "  Gentleman's 
Magazine,"  if  the  author  would  entrust  him  with  it.  This  Reu 
ben  did  without  hesitation,  thanking  him  warmly  for  his  kindness, 
and  he  very  soon  saw,  by  several  laudatory  notices  in  the  news 
papers,  that  Mr.  Griffin  had  been  as  good  as  his  word.  The  suc 
cess  of  this  essay,  who  actually  benefited  by  it,  and  how  shabbi 
ly  the  author  was  treated  in  the  transaction,  will  appear  in  pro 
cess  of  time. 

A  melancholy  incident  terminated  this  passage  of  Reuben's 
life,  and  made  a  deep  impression  upon  him.  He  was  induced 
one  day  to  go  shooting  with  his  pupils  and  one  or  two  other  men. 
Reuben  carried  a  gun,  but  with  so  little  malice  against  the  birds 
of  the  air,  that  after  a  single  shot,  which  did  no  execution,  he 
never  loaded  his  piece  again,  but  kept  by  the  side  of  Mr.  Portly, 
who  was  a  keen  sportsman,  and  never  so  good  company  as  when 
he  was  in  the  field.  Returning  late  in  the  evening  through  a  close 
coppice,  Reuben  happened  to  be  in  advance  of  his  friend  by  a 
few  yards,  when  hearing  a  shot  behind  him,  he  turned  about, 
and  going  back  some  paces,  found  Portly  stretched  upon  the 
ground,  life  almost  extinct,  having  received  the  contents  of  his  own 
gun  on  one  side  of  his  head,  which  was  mutilated  and  shattered 
in  the  most  frightful  manner.  He  expired  on  the  spot  where  he 
lay.  The  spectacle  appalled  Reuben  indescribably  ;  a  bloody  ap 
parition  haunted  his  imagination  for  years,  and  for  a  considera 
ble  time  not  only  were  his  spirits  depressed,  but  his  health  sen 
sibly  affected.  He  left  Appleby  immediately  after  the  funeral  of 
his  unfortunate  pupil,  and  spent  a  short  time  with  his  parents, 
during  which  interval  he  was  seen  so  frequently  in  the  company 
of  the  cosy,  fat  quakeress,  that  people  began  to  smile  and  gossip 
on  the  subject,  although,  after  all,  there  might  have  been  nothing 
in  it. 

There  occurred  one  incident — and  only  one — worth  relating 
during  this  visit  to  Underwood ;  but  being  of  an  episodical  na 
ture,  we  reserve  it  for  a  distinct  chapter. 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  173 


CHAPTER  VL 

THE   SERMON  ON   CONSCIENCE. — AN  EPISODE. 

IT  will  be  remembered  that  Mr.  Medlicott  liad  frankly  and  pleas 
antly  accepted  a  present  of  the  sermon  which  the  Dean,  his  father- 
in-law,  had  dropped  into  the  well  several  years  before,  on  the  night 
before  Reuben  went  to  school,  and  the  Vicar  had  resolved  to 
treat  his  congregation  to  it  the  very  next  Sunday.  This  resolu 
tion,  however,  he  did  not  adhere  to,  being  influenced  chiefly  by 
the  integrity  of  his  character,  which  disinclined  him  to  deck  him 
self  with  borrowed  plumage,  particularly  with  feathers  which 
both  his  verdict  and  his  judgment  assured  him  were  so  much 
finer  than  his  own.  On  several  occasions  subsequently,  however, 
either  when  he  was  lazy,  or  otherwise  indisposed,  he  used 
to  say  to  his  wife  on  a  Saturday  morning,  that  he  had  a  great 
mind  to  give  the  parishioners  her  father's  thunder  ;  but  still,  when 
the  Sunday  came,  he  continued  to  shrink  from  what  he  consi 
dered  a  species  of  imposition ;  and  one  of  his  own  old  sermons 
on  the  vices  of  lying  and  slandering,  or  the  bad  habits  of  pick 
ing  and  stealing,  was  reproduced  for  the  twentieth  time.  Latterly 
the  Dean's  sermon  had  been  almost  forgotten,  and  lay,  with  some 
others,  in  a  sort  of  omnibus  drawer  in  the  bedroom,  amongst  the 
Vicar's  shirts,  flannel  waistcoats,  and  loose  miscellaneous  papers. 
Mrs.  Medlicott  often  remonstrated  on  the  subject  of  that  drawer, 
and  suggested  the  expediency  of  putting  its  contents  in  order,  parti 
cularly  the  papers ;  but  the  Vicar  would  shrug  his  shoulders  and 
reply  that  they  were  quite  as  well  arranged  as  the  records  of  the 
kingdom  itself;  and  moreover,  his  wife  was  open  to  a  tu  quoque, 
for  there  were  drawers  and  shelves  in  her  own  chests  and  ward 
robes,  where  similar  confusion  prevailed,  and  from  which,  when 
she  drew  a  shawl  or  petticoat  in  a  hurry,  it  was  no  uncommon 
event  for  one  of  Reuben's  schoolbooks,  French  exercises,  or  her 
mother's  unfinished  tract  on  Spartan  education,  to  tumble  out 
on  the  floor.  On  the  first  Saturday  evening  after  Reuben's  ar 
rival,  the  Vicar  had  been  in  one  of  his  ordinary  difficulties  about 
a  sermon ;  he  had  been  too  much  occupied  planting  some  new 
strawberries  during  the  week,  and  had  left  himself  little  or  no  time 
for  the  more  important  duty  of  preparing  a  suitable  discourse  for 
the  edification  of  his  flock. 

"  I  have  a  great  mind,"  said  he,  "  to  read  cme  of  the  homilies 


174  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

to-morrow.  It  is  a  pity  they  have  fallen  into  disuse.  Some  of 
them  are  very  fine  compositions,  and  the  worst  is  far  better  than 
any  sermon  I  ever  wrote,  or  shall  write." 

"  You  had  hotter  preach  that  sermon  of  my  father's,"  said 
Mrs.  Medlicott,  and  Reuben  agreed  with  her. 

"Perhaps  so,"  said  the  vicar,  "I  had  almost  forgotten  all 
about  it." 

"  Where  is  it  ?"  said  his  wife. 

"  I  suppose  in  the  drawer  with  the  shirts,"  said  the  Vicar. 

Mrs.  Medlicott  said  something  to. the  effect,  that  the  drawer 
in  question  was  no  place  for  her  husband's  sermons. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  rejoined,  "  whether  it  is  the  shirts  that  get 
among  the  sermons,  or  the  sermons  among  the  shirts,  but  they 
have  pigged  together  in  the  same  drawer  ever  since  I  was  mar 
ried." 

After  some  more  dialogue  of  this  kind,  he  went  to  the  drawer  to 
look  for  Dean  Wyndham's  sermon,  but  it  was  not  to  be  found. 
There  was  a  sermon  on  drunkenness,  which  he  had  preached  not 
many  months  before;  the  sermon  on  picking  and  stealing,  which 
he  had  given  two  Sundays  previously  ;  and  some  other  discourses 
on  various  moral  duties,  to  every  one  of  which  either  Mrs.  Medli 
cott  or' Reuben  had  some  objection  to  make. 

"  Perhaps  it  has  got  into  some  place  of  yours  ?"  said  the  Vicar. 

"  How  is  that  possible  ?"  said  his  wife. 

"  Such  things  have  happened,"  said  the  Vicar,  "  so  we  had 
better  try." 

Mrs.  Medlicott  was  very  averse  to  an  examination  of  her  stores, 
for  she  had  been  severe  on  the  condition  of  her  husband's,  and 
was  conscious  that  her  own  were  not. much  better  arranged. 
However,  there  was  no  help  for  it,  and  so  her  drawers  in  their 
turn  were  submitted  to  scrutiny.  A  French  dictionary  tumbled 
out  of  a  bundle  of  dimities  upon  the  Vicar's  toe  in  the  very  be 
ginning  of  the  search. 

"  Upon  my  word,""  said  he,  stooping  to  rub  his  foot,  "  I  am 
beginning  to  think  that  my  drawers  are  not  so  very  disorderly  after 
all." 

"  The  maids  thrust  everything  into  my  shelves, "  said  Mrs. 
Medlicott 

"  Careless  husseys !"  murmured  the  Vicar. 

"  Well,  the  sermon  is  not  here  at  all  events, "  said  his  wife, 
pushing  the  dimities  back  into  the  press,  and  turning  the  key 
rather  brusquely. 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN.  175 

"  We  shall  find  it  some  day  or  another,  when  we  are  not  look 
ing  for  it,"  said  the  Vicar.  "  I  suppose  I  must  entertain  them 
with  '  the  dinner  of  herbs  and  the  stalled  ox,'  to-morrow." 

This  was  a  standard  discourse  of  Mr.  Medlicott's  on  the  text, 
"  Better  is  a  dinner  of  herbs  where  love  is,  than  a  stalled  ox  and 
hatred  therewith."  It  was  really  a  very  good  plain  sermon,  and 
he  had  once  indulged  his  peculiar  vein  of  humour  by  preaching 
it  before  the  corporation  of  Chichester,  upon  whose  habits  of  good 
living  it  was  a  sly  practical  satire. 

"  I  don't  see  what  better  you  can  do,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott ; 
and  so  it  was  settled  on  the  Saturday  night :  but  the  following 
morning,  when  the  Vicar  took  a  clean  shirt  out  of  the  drawer, 
the  sermon  that  had  gone  astray  turned  up  among  the  folds  of 
the  linen,  and  was  preached  that  same  day  to  the  congregation 
of  Underwood. 

The  subject  was  the  office  and  authority  of  conscience  in  the 
moral  constitution  of  man. 

Never  was  a  preacher  more  nervous  through  apprehension  of 
being  considered  dull  than  Mr.  Medlicott  was  upon  this  occasion, 
lest  there  should  be  anybody  present  capable  of  detecting  and 
appreciating  the  originality  and  excellence  of  his  discourse.  In 
general,  there  was  never  a  less  critical  audience  than  his  parish 
ioners  formed,  or  one  upon  whose  swinish  judgments  the  pearls 
of  eloquence  or  learning  would  have  been  so  completely  thrown 
away.  He  scrutinized  them,  however,  upon  this  occasion  very 
closely,  and  so  did  his  wife  and  son,  though  Mrs.  Medlicott's  mo 
tive  for  doing  so  was  mere  curiosity  Co  observe  if  by  chance  a 
single  person  present  would  be  struck  by  the  .difference  between 
a  sermon  of  her  father's  and  those  which  the  congregation  was  in 
the  habit  of  hearing.  But  not  a  being,  in  any  corner  of  the  lit 
tle  church,  betrayed  the  slightest  emotion,  from  first  to  last,  of  a 
nature  either  to  alarm  the  Vicar,  or  to  gratify  the  filial  pride  of 
Mrs.  Medlicott.  On  the  contrary,  as  the  sermon  was  longer  by 
about  ten  minutes,  or  rather  more,  than  the  ordinary  standard  in 
the  parish,  two  or  three  of  the  farmers  and  shopkeepers  were  obvi 
ously  affected  by  that  peculiarity,  as  appeared  by  their  yawning 
and  fidgeting,  and  other  symptoms  of  uneasy  or  weary  listeners. 
Before  the  service  commenced,  however,  both  the  Vicar  and  his 
family  had  made  one  observation  which  was  important.  One  of 
the  principal  proprietors  in  the  neighbourhood  was  an  old  noble 
man,  Lord  Stromness,  who  only  came  there  occasionally,  and  wae 
very  little  known  to  anybody,  except  by  his  personal  appearance. 


176  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

Tie  had  a  pew  in  Underwood  church,  and  that  was  almost  the 
only  place  where  the  Vicar  had  ever  seen  him :  his  lordship 
would  appear  there  once  or  twice  a-year,  generally  about  partridge- 
shooting  ;  he  was  in  the  habit  of  shaking  hands  with  the  Vicar 
and  bowing  to  Mrs.  Medlicott ;  that  was  all  they  knew  about 
Lord  Stromness.  On  this  occasion  he  had  come  down  after  the 
rising  of  Parliament,  and  attended  divine  service  as  usual ;  but  it 
was  not  his  presence  that  att'-.c'  --d  the  Vicar's  or  Mrs.  Medlicott's 
attention  (for  his  lordship  was  no  more  of  a  critic  than  any  of  the 
farmers),  but  that  of  a  stranger  by  whom  his  lordship  was  ac 
companied.  Yet  there  was  nothing  at  all  extraordinary  in  the 
appearance  of  this  gentleman,  either :  he  was  a  grave  elderly 
man,  almost  clerical  in  his  dress.  Mr.  Medlicott  merely  noticed 
him  as  a  stranger,  and  his  wife  (with  her  phrenological  eye)  be 
cause  he  possessed  the  recommendation  of  what  she  termed  a  highly 
intellectual  forehead.  When  the  Vicar  came  down  from  the  pulpit, 
Lord  Stromness  paid  him  the  usual  civil  attention,  and  the  stranger 
made  him  a  respectful  obeisance  also.  This  was  all  that  occurred. 
The  old  nobleman  and  his  friend  were  amongst  the  first  who  left  the 
chuivli.  They  had  scarcely  turned  their  backs  before  Mrs.  Medli 
cott  wfis  all  eagerness  to  find  out  who  the  strange  gentleman  was. 

"  Somebody  shooting  with  Lord  Stromness,"  said  the  Vicar. 

u  Do  inquire  who  he  is,"  said  his  wife. 

"  Ask  the  Sexton,"  said  the  Vicar,  "  while  I  take  off  my 
gown." 

But  all  the  Sexton  knew  was  that  Lord  Stromness  had  a  small 
party  of  sportsmen  in  the  country  with  him,  and  he  presumed 
the  stranger  was  one  of  the  number.  The  following  day  how 
ever,  the  Vicar  met  an  acquaintance  of  his,  who  knew  everything 
that  was  going  on  within  twenty  miles  round  in  the  sporting 
world,  and  who  informed  him  that  the  Lord  Chancellor  was  one 
of  Lord  Stromness's  party,  and  was  probably  the  stranger  who 
had  been  at  church  with  him,  as  the  description  answered  the 
Chancellor's  person  perfectly.  Mrs.  Medlicott  wondered  how  he 
could  have  left  the  church  without  testifying,  in  some  way  or  an 
other,  his  admiration  of  the  discourse  he  had  heard. 

"  It  was  not  prolix  enough   to  please  him,"  said  the  Vicar. 

M  Something  may  come  of  it  yet,"  said  his  wife,  musingly. 

"  A  Crown  living !"  cried  the  Vicar  ;  "  but  could  I  conscien 
tiously  accept  one,  if  it  were  offered  me  under  such  circumstan 
ces,  particularly  as  conscience  was  the  subject  of  the  stirmon  3" 

"  Indeed,  I  think  you  might,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott. 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  177 

Rtnben  was  of  the  opposite  opinion. 

"  It's  a  nice  point,"    said  the  Vicar,  "  but  I  shall  probably 
have  full  time  to  consult  the  casuists,  and  consider  it  fully." 


CHAPTER  VIL 

ME.  MEDIJCOTT  MEETS  ONE  WHO  Is  AS    VERSATILE  AS  HIMSBLF. 

REUBEN,  returning  to  Cambridge,  found  that  Primrose  was  flown. 
Hyacinth,  though  he  had  been  so  urgent  with  Reuben  to  em 
brace  the  profession  of  the  law,  seemed  in  no  great  hurry  him 
self  to  enter  it,  for  immediately  after  the  appearance  of  his  sketch 
of  Dean  Wyndham,  he  went  abroad,  and  pursued  his  travels  as 
far  as  Florence.  Mrs.  Mountjoy  happened  to  be  there  at  the  time, 
which  no  doubt  made  the  fair  city  on  the  Arno  particularly  agree 
able  to  Hyacinth  ;  it  contributed,  indeed,  he  frankly  acknowledg 
ed,  more  to  his  contentment,  than  the  presence  of  the  Medicean 
goddess  herself,  "  for  which,  I  suppose,"  he  said,  in  one  of  his 
letters  home,  "  I  shall  be  put  down  by  your  artists  and  artistic 
people  as  little  better  than  a  Hun." 

Reuben  was  greatly  scandalised  (as  well  became  him)  at  the 
truant  life  his  friend  was  leading,  when  he  ought  to  have  been 
almost  as  far  advanced  in  his  profession  as  Henry  Winning. 
Primrose,  indeed,  seemed  now  to  be  carrying  into  practice  one  of 
the  many  little  playful  theories  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
broaching  from  time  to  time,  to  exercise  his  wit,  and  lighten  the 
weight  of  an  idle  hour.  Among  other  things,  he  was  wont  to 
maintain  that  for  rising  in  the  world  there  was  no  better  plan 
than  to  do  nothing,  provided  you  have  once  got  a  general  repu 
tation  for  talent. 

"  My  notion  is,"  he  used  to  argue,  "  that  it  is  better  to  rest 
on  the  character  one  has,  than  expose  it  to  hazard,  by  continual 
ly  giving  envy  something  to  carp  at.  The  men  that  succeed  best 
are  those  who  contrive  to  get  a  little  clique  about  them,  who  cry 
them  up  not  for  what  they  actually  do,  but  what  they  could  do 
if  they  would  only  take  the  trouble.  In  those  cliques,  which  are 
often  exceedingly  influential,  active  talent  makes  a  very  poor 
figure  by  the  side  of  reputed  cleverness.  I  was  once  of  Shak- 
speare's  opinion,  that  perseverance  '  keeps  honour  bright ;'  but  of 


178  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

late  I  am  much  inclined  to  think  that  honour  is  in  more  danger 
of  being  sullied  than  burnished_by  scouring.  There  are  so  many 
ways  of  disparaging  anything  actually  done,  and  turning  it  against 
the  doer.  Any  blockhead,  for  example,  can  deny  one's  original 
ity,  and  affirm  that  he  met,  elsewhere,  everything  one  has  said  or 
written,  or  even  that  he  himself  supplied  the  hints  or  the  mate 
rials.  If  talent  cannot  be  denied,  what  is  so  easy  as  to  shake  the 
head,  and  cry — '  how  indiscreet !'  or  come  in  with  a  '  yes,  but 
that  is  all  he  can  do.'  But  the  most  approved  plan  of  all  is,  to 
exclaim,  '  Ah,  if  such  a  one  (the  hero  of  the  clique)  had  handled 
the  subject,  if  such  a  one  had  spoken,  or  written  on  such  a 
theme!'  On  the  whole  I  conclude,"  said  Primrose,  "that  intel 
lectual  activity  is  more  likely  to  injure  a  man  than  to  serve  him ; 
I  am  very  much  disposed  in  future  to  be  more  tender  of  my  cap 
ital  than  I  have  been,  and  live  like  a  great  many  prosperous  fel 
lows  about  me,  upon  the  interest  of  my  reputation." 

This  was  precisely  what  Master  Hyacinth  seemed  to  be  now 
actually  doing,  having  fortunately,  besides  the  interest  of  his  re 
putation,  the  interest  of  a  few  thousand  pounds  to  live  on.  Reu 
ben  was  pained  to  see  his  friend  so  volatile,  and  had  serious 
thoughts  of  writing  him  an  admonitory  letter — a  step  which  it  is 
to.be  regretted  he  did  not  take,  as  a  remonstrance  from  him  up 
on  that  particular  subject  would  have  certainly  deserved  a  place 
among  the  curiosities  of  literature. 

Primrose,  however,  was  not  the  only  acquaintance  he  had 
who  stood  much  in  need  of  a  lecture  on  perseverance.  As  he 
was  one  day  straying  in  the  streets  of  Cambridge,  probably  mor 
alising  on  this  very  point,  he  remarked  a  workman  on  a  ladder 
painting  an  inscription  over  the  door  of  a  little  shop,  which  seemed 
on  the  eve  of  being  opened  in  some  new  line  of  business.  While 
Reuben  stood  watching  the  operation,  the  name  was  completed, 
and  to  his  astonishment  it  was  ADOLPHK.  Almost  the  next  mo 
ment  he  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  his  old  acquaintance  of 
Hereford  again.  Adolphe  darted  out  of  his  shop,  with  a  cigar  in 
his  mouth,  not  much  changed,  except  that  his  moustache  was  lar 
ger,  and  his  appearance  that  of  a  man  who  had  been  tossing 
about  in  this  wicked  world.  Reuben  was  very  happy  to  see  the 
French  shoemaker,  and  shook  his  hand  cordially. 

"  Ah,"  said  Adolphe,  "  you  do  not  shake  the  hand  like  most 
op  your  countrymen ;  you  give  your  hand  as  if  your  hcnrt  was  in 
it.  I  am  happy  to  meet  you  again :  you  were  always  a  kind 
friend  to  me." 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  179 

• 

Reuben  presumed  he  was  about  to  set  up  again  in  his  former 
trade. 

"  Ah,  no !  he  was  now  in  the  book  line :  he  had  at  length, 
after  repeated  trials,  discovered  the  career  that  suited  his  talents 
and  his  tastes ;  he  had  found  in  himself  two  passions — he  loved 
literature  and  he  loved  merchandise ;  the  true  career  of  everybody 
was  the  result  of  his  passions :  this  was  his  theory,  and  it  had 
made  him  what  he  now  was, — a  bookseller." 

"  Where  was  mademoiselle  his  sister  ?  was  she  still  living 
with  Mrs.  Winning?" 

"  No,  no ;  she  was  married,  married  to  a  distinguished  co 
median  in  London ;  she  was  settled  in  the  world,  and  had  a  nice 
house  at  Bayswater." 

"  I  shall  not  fail  to  visit  her  whenever  I  go  to  town,"  said 
Reuben. 

"  She  will  be  proud  to  be  visited  by  Monsieur." 

It  was  a  fortunate  rencontre  for  Adolphe.  Reuben  deserved 
to  have  had  his  portrait  taken  by  the  first  -sign-painter  in  England, 
and  hung  over  the  door  of  the  new  shop,  to  reward  the  extraor 
dinary  pains  he  took  to  have  it  Opened  with  tclat.  He  canvassed 
for  customers ;  he  even  wrote  Adoiphe's  advertisements  for  the 
newspapers  ;-  advised  him  as  to  the  stock  of  books  he  should  pur 
chase  ;  and  incidentally  put  his  name  to  one  or  two  bills  which 
were  passed  to  the  houses  in  Paternoster-row  by  which  the  orders 
for  the  books  were  taken. 

Mr.  Medlicott  was  also  Adoiphe's  first  customer.  The  book 
was  a  pocket  edition  of  the  poetry  of  Milton.  It  was  a  memora 
ble  purchase.  Soon  applying  it  to  its  purposed  use,  he  took  it 
with  him  the  same  evening  in  one  of  his  lonely  saunterings,  and 
the  first  verses  that  met  his  eye  stung  him  to  the  quick.  It  was 
the  beautiful  sonnet  "  On  being  arrived  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
three  :" 

"How  soon  hath  Time,  the  subtle  thief  of  youth, 
Stol'n  on  his  wing  my  three  arrl  twentieth  year! 
My  hasting  days  fly  on  with  full  career, 
But  my  late  spring  no  bud  or  blossom  shew'tb, 
Perhaps  my  semblance  might  deceive  the  truth, 
Th:it  I  to  manhood  am  arrived  so  near; 
And  inward  ripeness  doth  much  less  appear, 
Thau  some  more  timely  happy  spirits  endu'th. 
Yet  bo  it  less  or  more,  or  soon  or  slow, 
It  shall  be  still  in  strictest  measure  even 
To  that  saiic?  lot,  however  mean  or  high, 

8* 


180  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

Toward  which  Time  leads  me,  and  the  will  of  Heaven: 
All  is,  if  I  have  grace  to  use  it  so, 
As  ever  in  my  great  Task-master's  eye." 

He  read  a  great  mass  of  divinity  for  a  few  weeks  following 
the  reading  of  that  sonnet;  he  plunged  deep  into  biblical  litera 
ture  and  Church  history ;  mastered  the  elements  of  Hebrew,  and 
began  to  wonder  at  the  little  interest  he  had  hitherto  taken  in 
sacred  studies.  In  fact,  many  a  young  man  is  admitted  to  orders 
with  a  much  scantier  knowledge  of  divinity  than  Reuben  ac 
quired  in  this  brief  paroxysm  of  study.  During  a  whole  fortnight 
he  never  saw  his  protege,  the  bookseller,  except  for  an  hour  oc 
casionally  in  the  evening,  when  he  would  drop  into  his  shop,  by 
way  of  relaxation,  or  to  inquire  how  the  business  was  prospering. 
On  one  of  these  occasions,  he  found  the  lively  young  Frenchmau 
sitting  on  his  counter,  playing  the  flageolet,  just  as  he  had  found 
him  at  Hereford  in  the  beginning  of  their  acquaintance,  when  he 
traded  in  shoes.  Some  University  men  came  in  while  Reuben 
was  there ;  but,  to  his  surprise,  instead  of  asking  for  books,  they 
inquired  for  cigars,  and  Adolphe  supplied  their  wants  from  some 
boxes,  which  Reuben  had  not  noticed  before.  There  was  a  little 
theory  ready  to  account  for  this  ui>iori  of  trades.  The  literature 
of  tobacco  was  very  curious.  Reuben  thought  it  was  possible  it 
might  be  so ;  but  he  began  to  think,  also,  as  he  returned  to  his 
chambers,  that  his  friend  Adolphe  was  not  much  more  constant 
to  one  pursuit  than  he  was  himself. 

The  three-and-twentieth  anniversary  of  the  nativity  of  Reuben 
came.  The  Vicar  procured  him  a  nomination  to  a  curacy  in 
Chichester.  The  Bishop  of  a  neighbouring  diocese,  an  excellent 
man,  who  had  often  been  friendly  to  Mr.  Medlicott,  was  soon  to 
hold  an  ordination,  and  it  was  the  earnest  wish  of  Reuben's 
friends  that  he  should  sieze  the  opportunity,  and  present  himself 
for  admission  into  orders.  But  now  came  one  of  his  fits  of  lan 
guor  and  indecision,  unhappily  much  more  frequent  than  his 
starts  of  energy  and  determination.  He  doubted  the  complete 
ness  of  his  preparation ;  there  were  many  points  on  which  he  had 
not  yet  made  up  his  mind ;  he  had  not  examined  himself  with 
sufficient  strictness  and  solemnity  to  discover  whether  he  enter 
tained  that  sincere  desire  for  the  pastoral  office,  and  fitness  for  its 
duties,  without  which  he  had  all  along  been  resolved  never  to 
take  the  obligations  of  a  clergyman  upon  him.  In  this  there 
was  some  conscientiousness,  but  there  was  more  indolence.  The 
Vicar  was  morose ;  tl  ^  Dean  was  violent,  as  usual,  and  intended 


OR,  THE  COMING   MAN.  181 

to  write  his  grandson  a  philippic,  but,  being  otherwise  much  oc 
cupied,  lie  devolved  the  duty  on  Mrs.  Wyndham,  through  whose 
mild  medium  the  indignation  of  his  grandfather  reached  Reuben 
in  a  very  diluted  form.  A  pile  of  lettei's  on  the  subject  lay  on 
his  table  from  the  different  members  of  his  family.  There  were 
two  or  three  from  his  mother ;  at  first  she  had  been  disposed  to 
blame  him  with  some  asperity,  in  common  with  his  father,  but 
her  later  epistles .  were  in  an  altered  tone.  It  appeared  that  she 
had  come  round  to  her  son's  opinion,  that  the  delay  of  a  year  or 
so  could  be  of  little  consequence,  as  he  was  still  so  young  a  man, 
and  could  easily  employ  the  interval  to  so  much  advantage  in  the 
cultivation  of  pulpit  oratory. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  to-do  about  ordination,  (for  the  subject 
made  a  great  noise  at  Underwood,  though  very  little  in  the  world 
at  large,)  Mrs.  Mountjoy  had  returned  from  the  continent,  and 
taken  lodgings  in  London.  Reuben  shortly  after  went  up  to 
town  to  pass  the  season  with  her.  This  was  his  first  visit  to  the 
great  metropolis ;  and  his  mother  trusted  he  would  not  neglect 
so  good  an  opportunity  for  taking  lessons  in  elocution  from  some 
of  those  experienced  professors  of  that  art,  whose  advertisements 
she  had  frequently  observed  in  the  public  journals. 


182  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ', 


BOOK  THE  FIFTH. 


Sudf.  "  Why,  I  want  to  be  made  an  orator  on,  and  to  speak  speeches,  I  tell  yon,  at 
our  meetings,  about  politics  and  peace,  and  addresses,  and  the  new  bridge,  and  all  them 
kind  of  things." 

Foots.  "Why,  with  your  happy  talents,  I  should  think  much  might  be  done." 
Suds.  "  I  am  proud  to  hear  you  say  so.    I  did  speechify  once  at  a  vestry  concerning 
new-lettering  the  church-buckets,  and  came  off  cutely  enough  ;  and  to  say  the  truth, 
that  was  the  thing  that  provoked  me  to  go  to  Pewterers  HalL — The  Orators. 


ARGUMENT. 

Iv  we  were  to  offer  advice  to  a  reader,  as  Lord  Shaftesbury  has  done  to 
an  author,  we  should  begin  by  strenuously  urging  him  to  cultivate  the 
excellent  virtue  of  humility,  so  to  avoid  the  too  common  presumption  of 
cocking  up  his  own  little  private  opinions  upon  all  occasions  against  the 
judgment  of  the  writer,  fancying  if  the  pen  had  been  in  his  own  fingers 
now  much  better  matters  would  have  been  managed,  like  a  village  poli 
tician  pooh-poohing  a  cabinet  minister ;  or  as  if  a  court  of  Pie-poudre 
were  to  review  a  decree  of  the  Court  of  Chancery. 

"  God  bless  thee,  and  put  meekness  in  thy  breast, 
Love,  charity,  obedience,  and  true  duty." 

A  sensible  reader  will  take  things  as  he  finds  them  in  the  book  in  his 
hand,  very  much  as  a  wise  man  makes  up  his  mind  to  take  things  as  they 
are  in  human  life,  jogging  along  with  the  nymph  Goodhumour  hanging 
on  his  arm, — the  best  companion,  rely  upon  it,  for.  getting  through  a 
book  as  well  as  for  getting  through  the  world.  We  do  pot  advise  the 
reader,  nor  anybody  else,  to  go  to  school  to  Diogenes  in  his  tub ;  the 
seminary  \ve  do  recommend  is  that  where  we  were  trained  ourselves, 
that  which  was  founded  ages  ago  in  Greece  by  that  cheerful  philosopher, 
who  not  only  held,  with  Sir  Toby,  that  "life  consists  of  the  four  ele 
ments,"  but  was  much  inclined  also  to  Sir  Andrew's  opinion,  that  good 
fellowship  entered  largely  into  the  composition,  though  perhaps  he  did 
not  lay  it  down  so  broadly  as  the  boozy  knight  in  the  inimitable  play. 
Nor  let  it  be  thought  that  in  recommending  the  school  of  Democritus  we 
would  wish  to  see  the  faces  of  our  audience  "wearing  a  universal  grin," 
as  that  of  NatiU  ?  did  upon  the  day  of  Tom  Thumb's  victory.  The  philo- 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  183 

eophy  of  Abdera  consisted  in  the  habit  of  looking  at  the  sunny  side  of 
things',  not  in,  the  idle  trick  of  giggling  like  a  girl,  or  laughing  like  a 
clown  in  a  pantomime.  Be  as  grave  as  you  will,  provided  there  is  no 
sourness  in  your  gravity,  and  you  graciously  receive  what  is  honestly 
intended  to  please  you.  Let  it  be  in  chemistry  as  it  may,  very  little, 
morally  speaking,  is  to  be  done  by  the  action  of  the  acids.  Hannibal  is 
the  only  personage  on  record  who  ever  gained  an  advantage  by  vinegar. 
If  we  authors  are  expected  to  have  honey  on  our  lips,^Jiat  our  periods 
may  flow  niellifluously,  surely  our  readers  ought  to  have  honey  in  their 
hearts,  that  their  judgments  may  run  sweetly.  Ah,  that  honey  of  the 
mind  is  a  heavenly  quality — 

u  Aeril  mellis  celestia  doni" 

You  will  not  be  the  worse  critic,  if  you  must  be  of  that  quorum,  for  hav 
ing  all  Hybla  within  you.  As  to  write  with  bitterness  is  no  mark  of  an 
able  author,  so  to  read  with  bitterness  is  as  little  a  characteristic  of  the 
judicious  reader.  We  are  your  hosts ;  you  are  our  guests,  and  we  pray 
you  to  remember  the  duties,  obligations,  and  responsibilities  incumbent 
upon  you  by  virtue  of  that  jovial  relationship.  You  are  bound  to  come 
to  us  with  an  un wrinkled  brow  and  a  bright  eye,  arraying  your  inner 
man  in  some  festive  suit  made  of  cloth  of  sunshine,  if  it  is  to  be  had  ;  all 
urbanity  and  complaisance,  proving  yourself  a  gentle  and  gracious  reader 
in  reality,  as  you  undoubtedly  are  by  the  forms  and  courtesy  of  the  world 
of  letters.  Away,  then,  with  all  exceptions  to  our  story,  or  any  chapter, 
or  subdivision  of  it.  We  pronounce  them  ill-humoured  and  unmannerly. 
If  our  incidents  are  objected  to,  we  declare  it  frivolous  and  vexatious ;  if 
anybody  assails  our  characters,  we  call  it  calumny  and  detraction ;  wfcile, 
as  to  the  rate  of  our  progress,  we  assert  our  indefeasible  right  to  travel 
at  what  pace  we  please,  whether  by  electric  telegraph,  or  on  the  back  of 
a  tortoise.  Nor  do  we  sit  here  in  our  chair  of  state  to  answer  inquisitive 

Eeople,  popping  all  manner  of  questions — our  motive  for  this — our  reason 
>r  that— in  short,  why  we  have  written  the  present  book  and  not  a  dif 
ferent  one.  Our  book  is  our  Republic,  and  we  are  President  of  it.  Why, 
we  might,  if  it  so  pleased  us,  strike  a  coup-de-plume,  trample  all  human 
obligations  under  our  feet,  butcher  one-half  of  our  characters  in  cold 
blood,  transport  the  residue  to  some  equatorial  swamp,  producing  only 
red  pepper  and  yellow  fever ;  leaving  our  "  tale  half  told,"  like  "  the 
story  of  Cambuscan  bold,"  or  that  other  bard  who 

"broke  off  In  the  middle 
TV  adventure  of  the  bear  and  fiddle ;" 

and,  if  the  book  has  had  any  subscribers,  confiscating  their  purchase- 
money,  or  picking  their  pockets,  with  a  sufficient  number  'f  "considera 
tions,"  like  the  estate  of  the  plundered  house  of  Orleans* 


184  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  . 

CHAPTER  I. 

BURLINGTON    GARDENS. 

MRS.  MOUNTJOY  resided  in  Burlington  Gardens.  Mr.  Primrose, 
who  had  also*  returned  from  abroad,  took  chambers  in  the 
Albany. 

Mrs.  Mountjoy's  opinion  upon  such  a  subject  was  perhaps  not 
the  best  worth  having ;  but  she  was  decidedly  of  opinion  that 
Reuben  had  acted  wisely  in  postponing,  for  a  short  time,  his  en 
trance  into  a  profession  so  very  serious  as  the  Church.  Possibly 
she  took  rather  a  secular  view  of  the  matter,  but  she  thought  she 
was  doing  her  nephew  a  solid  service  in  giving  him  some  little 
insight  into  the  gay  world,  before  his  entrance  into  a  profession 
which,  to  a  great  extent,  must  necessarily  separate  him  from  it 
for  ever.  The  widow  was  fond  of  the  world,  it  must  be  owned, 
but  it  was  in  as  unworldly  a  way  as  ever  the  world  was  loved  in ; 
for  she  was  much  less  anxious  about  enjoying  its  pleasures  her 
self,  than  to  make  others  partakers  of  them. 

"  I  can't  help  thinking,  Mr.  Primrose,"  she  said,  "  that  a  cler 
gyman  ought  to  be  acquainted  with  life  in  all  its  varieties,  even 
a  little  with  its  pleasures  and  amusements,  if  it  were  only  to  en 
able  him  to  form  a  just  estimate  of  their  vanity ;  at  the  same 
time  I  am  very  far  from  thinking  that  the  vainest  things  in  this 
world  are  its  enjoyments — at  least  the  only  class  of  enjoyments 
to  which  I  would  wish  to  introduce  my  nephew." 

Primrose  fully  concurred  in  this  opinion,  and  pushed  it  fur 
ther,  with  his  usual  love  of  paradox,  by  observing  that  "he  could 
not  understand  how  a  divine  was  to  teach  mankind  to  abjure 
the  pomps  and  vanities  of  human  life  without  having  previously 
made  himself  perfectly  master  by  experience  of  all  that  it  was  his 
duty  to  rebuke  and  discountenance.  Of  course,"  he  added,  feel 
ing  that  he  was  overstraining  the  point,  "  I  do  not  mean  exactly 
to  say,  that  a  man  ought  to  go  through  a  formal  course  of  dis 
sipation  to  qualify  him  for  the  pulpit." 

"  Oh,  of  course  not,"  said  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  "  I  never  could  have 
dreamed  you  meant  any  such  thing.  At  all  events,  the  kind  ot 
dissipation  I  propose  to  practise  and  encourage,  will,  in  my  hum 
ble  opinion,  do  no  young  man  any  harm.  With  your  assistance 
I  hope,  while  I  remain  in  England,  we  shall  manage  to  have  a 
great  many  rational  and  agreeable  evenings  in  this  house." 


OB,  THE  COMING   MAN.  185 

*'  We  must  look  after  Henry  Wir.  »ing,"  said  Reuben,  coming 
in  at  the  moment  arid  joining  the  cor  vernation. 

There  was  no  difficulty  in  finding  Winning,  for  his  chambers 
were  now  almost  as  well  known  at  the  Temple  as  those  of  His 
Majesty's  Attorney  General. 

The  gravity  of  his  profession  sat  well  upon  Reuben's  first 
friend  and  steadfast  protector  at  Finchley.  Winning  was  now 
a  fair  specimen  of  the  rising  young  lawyer.  His  forehead  was 
broad  and  fair,  his  well-opened  eye  was  calm  and  penetrating, 
his  manner  was  frank  arfd  bold,  his  voice  was  remarkable  for  dis 
tinctness,  strength,  and  volume.  His  room  was  literally  nothing 
but  a  hollow  cube  full  of  books  and  papers.  The  ceiling  was 
the  only  side  which  was  not  covered  with  them.  His  table  was 
•well  provided  with  briefs,  though  it  did  not  yet  groan  beneath 
them;  and  finally  he  had  arrived  at  the  state  and  dignity  of 
keeping  a  clerk  and  possessing  an  antechamber. 

With  all  this,  Henry  Winning  was  a  very  agreeable  member 
of  society,  conversed  with  spirit,  kept  up  a  tolerable  acquaintance 
with  the  current  literature  and  events  of  the  <!ay,  was  very  eco 
nomical  of  bar  anecdotes,  and  never  made  a  pun  in  his  life.  Mrs. 
Mountjoy  received  him  cordially  on  Reuben's  account,  and  was 
soon  happy  to  know  him  upon  her  own. 

That  handsome,  and  excellent  lady  had  a  very  fair  notion  of 
enjoying  existence,  whether  she  lived  in  Paris,  Florence  or  Lon 
don.  She  would  willingly  have  led  a  social  and  convivial  life 
had  Reuben  been  beyond  the  great  wall  of  China,  but  his  pres 
ence  in  the  character  of  her  guest  made  gaiety,  in  her  opinion,  a 
sort  of  duty,  and  accordingly  she  laid  herself  out  to  be  more  than 
usually  hospitable  and  entertaining  in  Burlington  Gardens. 
Quiet  little  jovial  dinners  were  what  she  most  delighted  in,  and 
she  proposed  to  diversify  them  with  suppers  of  the  same  charac 
ter,  after  an  opera  or  a  comedy.  Her  desire  was  to  have  every 
thing  perfect,  or  as  perfect  as  possible,  which  ought  to  be  the 
object  of  all  of  us  in  other  things  as  well  as  dinners  and  suppers, 
which,  however,  are  none  of  the  least  interesting  and  important 
affairs  of  life. 

'^Would  that  De  Tabley  were  here,"  cried  Reuben ;  "  he  un 
derstands  these  matters  infinitely  better  than  I  do,  or,  I  believe, 
Primrose  either." 

Mrs.  Mountjoy  was  curious  to  know  who  De  Tabley  was. 

"  One  of  our  first  men,"  said  Primrose,  "  in  gastronomic 
science.  If  cooking  was  honored  like  mathematics,  he  would 


186  THF    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

take  a  first  wranglership.  Some  men  are  destined  to  be  pillars 
of  the  State,  some  of  the  Church  :  Do  Tabley  was  born  to  sup 
port,  maintain,  and  defend  the  British  Kitchen." 

Reuben  added  the  better  points  of  the  character,  so  that  Mrs. 
Muimtjov  could  not  but  desire  to  make  Mr.  De  Tabley's  acquaint 
ance  as  soon  as  possible. 

There  was  no  occasion,  however,  to  invite  him  to  London; 
he  was  in  town  at  the  time,  having  his  eye  upon  a  good  sine 
cure  place  under  government,  which  he.  hoped  soon  to  enjoy, 
through  the  influence  of  his  uncle  and  other  parliamentary  con 
nections.  In  short,  the  gay  widow  soon  had  all  the  Hereford 
boys  of  her  nephew's  acquaintance  about  her,  and  a  very  at 
tractive  centre  she  made  to  the  clever  and  agreeable  group. 

But,  as  this  was  not  her  novitiate  in  London,  she  had  a  large 
acquaintance  already,  and  it  included  a  number  of  humdrum 
people — very  rich  some,  very  respectable  most  of  them — but  none 
of  them  possessing  the  qualities  suited  to  her  present  views,  or 
rather  those  of  her  new  ministry.  Reuben's  unsophisticated  no 
tions  of  men  and  of  society  were  now  of  signal  service.  Now 
it  was  that  he  gave  the  first  proof  of  his  talents  as  a  social  re 
former.  In  a  very  short  time  he  succeeded  in  clearing  his  aunt's 
salons  of  ti  multitude  of  nobodies,  whom  she  had  fallen  into  the 
h^ii  of  cultivating  merely  because  she  saw  them  cultivated  by 
other  people.  Reuben  would  ask  who  such  a  person  was — some 
stupid  formal  old  bachelor, — take  Mr.  Leadenhal),  for  example. 

"That  old  gentleman,  my  dear,"  Mrs.  Mountjoy  would  an 
swer,  looking  extremely  serious ;  "  he  is  a  director  of  the  East 
India  Company,  enormously  rich,  made  of  gold ;  has  a  magnifi 
cent  house  in  Park-lane ;  no  end  to  his  wealth — ingots,  pearls  and 
diamonds — quite  incredible  how  rich  he  is." 

"  Will  he  give  any  of  his  ingots  and  diamonds  to  us,  my 
dear  aunt?" 

"  No,  my  dear,  of  course  not ;  indeed,  they  say  he  is  the 
most  miserly  old  wretch  in  existence." 

"  But  his  house  in  Park-lane — I  suppose  that  is  always  open 
to  his  friends ;  to  you,  for  example,"  proceeded  her  nephew. 

"  Open  to  nobody  living,  my  dear,  but  one  or  two  old  Syba 
rites  like  himself;  he  is  the  very  personification  of  voluptuous 
selfishness." 

"  Well,  my  dear  aunt,  if  you  are  neither  the  better  for  his 
riches  nor  for  his  magnificent  house;  if  you  admit  that  he  is  sel 
fish  and  worthless ;  and  if  you  do  not  pretend  that  he  is  agreea- 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  187 

We  or  clever,  pray  why  do  you  court  his  acquaintance  ?  Of  what 
earthly  use  is  lie  to  you,  to  me,  or  to  anybody?" 

''  Well,  indeed,  Reuben,  when  you  put  it  in  that  light,  I  do 
not  know  "what  to  say  :  I  ask  him  because  everybody  else  does; 
i  neither  kne  him  nor  respect  him.  I'm  sure — in  short  he  is  a 
very  tiresome  old  man,  and  I  shall  never  be  at  home  to  him 
again." 

"  He  will  be  no  loss,"  said  Reuben. 

"But  then  what  is  one  to  do?"  continued  Mrs..  Mountjoy; 
"  how  is  one  to  choose  one's  society  ?" 

"  On  two  principles,  aunt — nobody  is  worth  knowing  except 
for  his  talents  or  his  virtues — his  moral  grandeur  or  his  intellectual 
celebrity." 

"  My  dear  boy,"  said  the  fair  widow,  "  would  you  have  me 
turn  everybody  out  of  my  house  but  yourself  and  Mr.  Primrose  ?" 

Reuben  smiled,  thanked  his  aunt  for  so  handsome  a  compli 
ment,  and  said  he  feared  his  rule  would  indeed  proscribe  a  great 
many  persons  of  her  acquaintance. 

*'  I  am  sure,"  she  said,  "  Sir  Finch  Goldfinch  has  neither  vir 
tue  nor  talent." 

"  He  has  got  a  box  at  the  opera  which  he  never  lends  you, 
and  he  gives  a  ponderous  dinner  now  and  then  that  bores  you  to 
death ;  in  return  for  which  favours  you  load  him  with  all  kinds 
of  hospitable  attentions,  merely  because  he  is  Sir  Finch  Gold 
finch." 

"  I  must  plead  guilty,  my  dear ;  but  I'll  send  him  packing 
with  Mr.  Leadenhall." 

"  Do  now,  like  a  dear  good  sensible  aunt,  and  cashier  Sir  Al 
lan  De  Bray  and  Lord  Greenwich  at  the  same  time;  the  latter  is 
a  mere  lord,  and  the  other  a  mere  baronet." 

"  And  only  a  baronet  of  Nova  Scotia,  my  dear." 

"  Which  makes  the  case  against  him  perfectly  irresistible,*1 
said  Reuben,  smiling ;  "  and  now  don't  you  think,  my  dear  aunt, 
we  might  throw  a  few  ladies  overboard  with  advantage  ?" 

"  Let  them  all  go,  if  you  please,  my  love,"  said  Mis.  Mount- 
joy,  "  I  don't  give  balls,  only  dinners ;  so  a  circle  of  men  is  what 
I  want;  you  and  Mr.  Primrose,  must  go  elsewhere  for  beauties 
and  fortunes." 

So  it  was  arranged.  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  in  fact,  gave  Reuben  a 
carte  blanche  to  fill  her  rooms  with  men  of  intellectual  renown 
and  moral  grandeur ;  but  as  such  fruit  grows  not  on  every  tree,  he 
Was  forced  to  pat  up  for  some  time  with  company  not  quite  so 


188  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

distinguished.  The  first  set  consisted  of  Mr.  Araby,  a  handpome 
young  clergyman,  the  author  of  "  Melancthou"  in  twenty  books; 
Mr.  Bavard,  a  talkative  and  parasitical  doctor,  who  held  the  dis 
tinguished  office  of  family  physician  in  the  household  of  the  Earl 
of  Fowderham; — these  were  the  nominees  of  Mr.  Primrose.  De 
Tabley  brought  his  uncle,  a  veteran  dandy  and  old  clubbist,  who 
represented  at  that  time  the  borough  of  Breeches-Pocket  Win 
ning  contributed  a  couple  of  loquacious  barristers,  and  there  was 
a  certain  Captain  Shuuh'eld,  of  the  Guards,  who  got  in  by  some 
means  or  other,  nobody  well  knew  how. 

When  Reuben  reviewed  his  troops,  he  felt  almost  as  much 
ashamed  of  them  as  Falstaft'  was  of  his  regiment,  and  could  not 
but  feel  that  he  had  turned  out  the  Leadenhalls  and  Goldfinches 
without  getting  much  better  men  in  their  place.  The  dinner 
days  were  Wednesdays  and  Saturdays.  On  Sundays  Mrs.  Mount- 
joy,  Reuben,  Primrose,  and  Winning  excluded  all  the  rest  of  the 
world.  The  remaining  days  were  open,  and  for  these  Mrs.  Mount- 
joy  felt  herself  quite  at  liberty  to  accept  agreeable  invitations  when 
she  received  them.  Reuben  used  often,  in  his  latter  days,  to  re 
late  the  little  incidents  of  his  aunt's  first  entertainment  in  Burling 
ton  Gardens.  One  of  these  was  the  following : — Mrs.  Mountjoy 
received  a  note  from  Winning  in  the  morning,  requesting  permis 
sion  to  bring  his  friend,  little  Master  Turner,  with  him  to  dinner. 
Reuben  and  Primrose  were  astonished  and  indignant  at  a  request 
so  monstrously  unreasonable;  Mrs.  Mountjoy  was  very  unhappy; 
but  at  length  her  good-nature  and  regard  for  Winning  prevailed 
over  other  considerations,  and  she  returned  a  civil  answer,  saying, 
that  she  would  be  happy  tr  receive  Mr.  Winning  and  his  young 
friend.  When  the  dinner-hour  came,  old  De  Tabley  was  one  of 
the  earliest  arrivals,  and  Mrs.  Mountjoy  commissioned  his  nephew 
to  prepare  him  for  what  was  to  happen.  The  old  gentleman, 
not  over  fond  of  children  at  any  time,  was  scarcely  able  to  con 
ceal  his  annoyance,  and  fidgeted  about  the  room  until  Mrs. 
Mountjoy  almost  feared  he  would  leave  the  house.  Reuben 
looked  on  like  a  philosopher,  not  a  little  annoyed  by  all  the  fuss 
that  he  saw  made  about  the  seemingly  trivial  occurrence  of  a  lit 
tle  boy  accidentally  brought  to  a  dinner-party.  When  Mr.  Win 
ning  and  Master  Turner  were  announced,  a  comic  painter  could 
not  have  had  a  better  subject  than  the  company  presented,  par 
ticularly  the  figure  of  old  Tabley,  who  stood  in  the  centre  of  the 
room,  perfectly  rigid,  his  features  puckered  up  with  the  acrimony 
of  his  feelings,  and  his  eye-glass  intently  fixed  upon  the  door. 


OB,  THE   COMING  MAN.  189 

The  object  of  all  this  alarm  proved  the  next  moment  to  be  a 
litt'e  master,  indeed,  but  only  a  Master  in  Chancery. 

"A  pleasant  opening,"  said  Primrose  aside  to  the  widow,  "of 
yo  ir  London  campaign."  But  the  pleasantry  all  evaporated  in 
that  one  trivial  occurrence,  and  notwithstanding  all  the  preparation 
for  an  agreeable  dinner,  it  turned  out  one  of  the  dullest  that  ever 
was  given.  For  a  long  time  nobody  could  talk  for  Mr.  Bavard, 
which  provoked  no  one  so  much  as  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  who  was 
anxious  that  her  nephhew  should  come  forward,  and  had  no  no 
tion  of  giving  dinners  for  Mr.  Bavard  to  shine  at.  Reuben  would 
probably  have  spoiled  the  dinner  himself,  if  it  had  not  been  done 
for  him  by  the  parasitical  and  prating  doctor,  who,  by  virtue  of 
his  longer  experience,  possessed  the  assurance  and  pertinacity 
which  our  "  coming  man  "  had  yet  to  acquire. 

At  length,  having  exhausted  all  other  topics,  Doctor  Bavard 
began  to  hold  forth  upon  the  art  of  conversation  itself  (in  which 
he  was  such  an  adept),  and  said,  among  other  things,  that  it  was 
like  Nature,  and  abhorred  a  vacuum,  upon  which  Winning  quick 
ly  and  pointedly  added  that  "  it  more  resembled  Commerce,  for 
it  abhorred  monopoly." 

"And  Law,"  said  Master  Turner,  following  up  the  blow,  "for 
it  is  averse  to  perpetuities." 

"Attica  and  Laconia  in  close  alliance,"  said  Reuben,  with 
some  pomposity,  "but  war  to  the  knife  with  Thebes." 

And  having  thus  got  what  the  French  call  the  "  parole,"  he 
kept  possession  of  it  with  .4  tenacity  of  purpose  worthy  of  a  better 
cause;  beo-imiing  Avith  Plutarch's  Apothegms,  and  ending  with 
the  Faceti;e  of  Hierocles,  not  one  jf  which  would  he  probably 
have  left  untold,  if  he  had  not  b^en  stidaaniy  cut  short  by  a  hint 
to  pass  the  bottle,  which  had  been  standing  stock  still  while  his 
tongue  had  been  running  so  volubly.  The  pause  delighted  every 
body  save  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  whose  admiration  for  Reuben  was  such 
that  she  could  have  heard  him  talk  for  ever  with  satisfaction. 

"However,  I  agree  with  Mr.  Bavard,  that  conversation  is  a 
mere  art,"  said  Captain  Shunfield,  filling  his  glass :  "  I  have  met 
with  works  on  the  subject." 

'  Have  you  found  them  practically  useful?"  said  Primrose 
cruelly. 

"  Well,"  said  the  Captain,  "  I  think  I  picked  up  some  good 
hints." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  the  art  of  agreeable  conversation  consists 
in,"  continued  Hyacinth,  getting  the  start  of  Bavard,  who  was 


190  THE    ITNIVCRSAT.    GENIUS  J 

preparing  to  begin  again  ;  "it  consists  in  being  agreeable  to  toe 
present  at  the  expense  of  the  absent." 

"  A  good  definition  of  tea-table  talk,"  said  Reuben. 

"  Apropos  to  that,"  said  Bavard,  but  got  no  further. 

"  Does  not  a  great  deal  depend  upon  the  accompaniments,  as 
in  music  ?"  said  George  De  Tabley :  "  the  accompaniment  of  a 
good  dinner,  for  instance." 

"Depend  upon  it  there  is,"  said  Primrose.  "Just  for  a  mo 
ment  imagine  the  dishes  and  wines  before  us  swept  away  by 
magic,  and  the  Barmecide's  feast  in  its  place,  or  Tiraon's  last  din 
ner  to  his  summer  friends." 

"I  remember  an  anecdote,"  said  Bavard, 

'  "  I  should  not  undertake  to  be-  witty  under  such  circum 
stances,"  said  old  De  Tabley. 

"  Nor  I,  positively,"  said  the  guardsman. 

"  Apropos -,"  said  Mr.  Bavard,  but  was  again  cut  short, 

for  Reuben  began  to  recollect  his  astrology,  and  observed  that  to 
make  society  perfect,  Mercury  ought  to  be  in  conjunction  with 
Bacchus. 

"  Unfortunately  there  is  no  such  planet,"  said  Winning. 

There  must  be  a  planet  Bacchus,"  said  Primrose,  <:  or  I  should 
blush  for  the  Copernican  system.  It  will  be  discovered  one  of 
these  days." 

"  All  very  prettily  observed,"  said  Master  Turner ;  "  but  per 
haps  I  may  venture  to  improve  upon  what  has  been  said  by 
recollecting  the  advantage  which  we  now  enjoy  of  a  conjunction 
between  Mercury  and  Bacchus  in  the  house  of  another  planet, 
and  a  fair  one." 

"They  ought  to  be  in  trine,"  said  Reuben. 

"Why,  I  think  your  nephew  is  an  astrologer,"  said  eld  De 
Tabley,  addressing  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  and  laughing  heartily. 

"  I  have  read  a  little  on  the  subject,"  said  Reuben,  slightly 
colouring. 

Winning  glanced  at  Primrose,  as  much  as  to  say,  What  is 
there  about  which  he  has  not  read  something  ? 

With  the  exception  of  this  little  trifling  conversation,  which 
took  place  towards  the  end  of  the  dinner,  the  clay  was  a  decided 
failure.  As  to  Mr.  Bavard,  Reuben  made  an  enemy  of  him  for 
life,  but  he  was  compensated  by  the  golden  opinions  he  won  from 
Master  Turner,  \vho  extolled  him  highly  to  Mrs.  Mountjoy  ;  and 
having  learned  from  her  who  he  was,  took  Reuben  aside  just  before 
he  retired,  and  astonished  him  very  much  by  saying,  "  T  have  not 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAX.  191 

the  pleasure  of  knowing  your  father,  but  I  heard  the  Chancellor 
say,  not  long  ago,  that  the  best  sermon  he  ever  heard  in  his  life, 
was  one  delivered  by  a  Mr.  Medlicott,  in  a  country  church  near 
Chichester;  if  you  are  the  son  of  that  distinguished  gentleman 
and  eminent  divine,  allow  me  to  congratulate  you." 


CHAPTER  II. 

NOT  IMPORTANT,  BUT  NOT  LONG. 

PRIMROSE  often  breakfasted  with  Mrs.  Mountjoy :  he  did  so  on 
the  day  after  the  dinner  related  in  the  last  chapter.  Reuben 
mentioned  what  Master  Turner  had  said  to  him,  and  told  the 
story  of  his  grandfather's  sermon,  which  diverted  his  aunt  and 
his  friend  extremely. 

"  By  the  by,"  said  Primrose,  "where  is  the  Dean  al  present?" 

Reuben  knew  nothing  about  him. 

Mrs.  Mountjoy  knew  just  as  little.  There  was  nothing  extra 
ordinary  in  this,  for  no  man  had  so  many  whereabouts)  between 
his  ecclesiastical  duties,  his  university  connections,  and  his  private 
affairs  and  speculations. 

"But,"  said  the  widow,  "  it  is  so  long  now  since  I  have  heard 
of  my  father,  that  I  begin  to  grow  a  little  uneasy.  I  wonder 
where  we  would  be  most,  likely  to  hear  something  about  him?" 

"Well,"  said  Primrose,  "the  Barsacs  are  connected  with  a 
house  in  the  city — Barsac  and  Upjohn — perhaps  by  inquiring 
there  we  might  pick  up  some  information." 

Reuben  and  Primrose  walked  towards  the  city,  through  as 
thick  a  fog  as  encompassed  ^Eneas  when  he  visited  Carthage. 
When  they  had  got  as  far  as  the  Temple,  the  darkness  was  actu 
ally  Cimmerian,  so  they  abandoned  their  purpose,  but  thought 
they  might  as  well  call  upon  Winning. 

"Kit  were  not  for  the  fog,"  said  Winning,  "I  should  say  I 
was  glad  to  see  you." 

"  Suppose  a  bill  payable  at  sight  wer«  dishonoured  on  a  day 
like  this,  could  an  action  be  maintained  ?"  asked  Primrose. 

"By  the  custom  of  London,  I  suppose  it  could  ;"  said  Win 
ning,  groping  about  in  the  obscurity  for  chairs  to  accommodate 
his  friends.  He  then  stirred  up  his  fire,  which  made  the  geo- 


192  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  | 

graphy  of  his  chambers  rather  more  distinguishable  than 
before. 

Winning,  as  we  have  stated,  had  all  the  qualities  for  the  bar, 
on  which  Dean  Wyndham  had  expatiated — the  head,  the  lungs, 
the  stomach — and  Reuben  and  Primrose  now  had  a  proof,  while 
they  sat  with  him,  that  he  possessed  the  element  of  bulldoggism 
also ;  for  an  attorney  happened  to  call  who  had  neglected  to  pre 
pare  some  important  proofs  which  had  been  advised  by'Winning, 
and  the  latter  gave  him  such  a  rating  that  Reuben  and  Primrose 
concluded  there  must  necessarily  be  an  end  to  all  professional 
connection  between  them. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  said  Winning,  "  he  will  send  me  more 
business  than  ever.  This  is  my  way  of  entertaining  the  attor 
neys." 

"Upon  my  word,"  said  Reuben,  "  it  costs  much  less  than 
entertaining  them  at  dinner." 

"I  reserve  that  for  my  private  friends,"  said  Winning;  "you 
must  both  dine  with  me  to-morrow  at  the  Rainbow." 

Primrose  was  prevented  by  an  engagement.  Reuben  dined 
•with  Winning  tete-a-tete. 

"  You  heard  me  give  a  fellow  a  scolding  the  other  day,"  said 
Winning  during  dinner. 

"  I  never  heard  such  abuse,"  said  Reuben,  "  since  you  abused 
me  for  learning  the  flageolet  I  suppose  the  case  is  a  very 
heavy  one." 

"Who  do  you  think  is  the  defendant?"  said  Winning  in  a 
serious  tone — "  a  near  relative  of  yours." 

Reuben  was  unable  to  guess. 

"  Your  grandfather !" 

The  young  barrister  then  told  his  friend  in  strict  confidence 
more  about  his  grandfather's  private  affairs  than  it  was  pleasant 
to  hear.  Winning  was  counsel  for  an  architect  who  was  bring 
ing  an  action  against  the  Dean,  arising  out  of  the  contract  for 
the  new  buildings  and  terraces  at  Hereford,  of  which  the  reader 
has  heard  something  already.  One  item  in  the  bill  of  particulars 
was  five  hundred  pounds  for  the  erection  of  the  fountain,  which 
Blanche  Barsac  had  suggested  for  the  ornament  of  the  square 
bearing  her  maiden  name.  Reuben  was  shocked  at  this  intelli 
gence.  He  had  been  led  to  believe  that  the  influence  of  Mrs. 
Wyndham  had  cured  his  grandfather  of  his  unhappy  mania,  and 
now  he  found  that  his  affairs  were  more  embarrassed  by  it  than 
ever,  to  the  extent  of  even  exposing  to  obloquy  his  character  as 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  193 

a  clergyman  and  dignitary  of  the  Church,  for  the  Dean  was 
actually  residing  at  Boulogne,  to  keep  "  the  perilous  narrow  sea" 
between  his  sacred  person  and  his  creditors. 

"However,"  added  Winning,  "I  ha/e  the  satisfaction  to  in 
form  you  that  matters  are  not  quite  as  bad  as  they  look,  for  my 
private  opinion  is  that  the  case  will  not  go  to  trial ;  I  have  reason 
to  think  that  your  grandfather's  friends  have  proposed  an  ar 
rangement  which  will  keep  things  quiet,  at  least  for  some  little 
time. 

"  The  Barsacs,  I  presume  ?"  said  Reuben. 

"  Yes,"  said  Winning, — "  I  suppose  you  know  that  the  Bar- 
sacs  are  in  town." 

"  No, — Primrose  and  I  were  on  a  voyage  of  discovery  to  find 
their  house  in  the  City,  when  we  were  lost  in  the  fog-bank  off 
Temple  Bar." 

"  I  know  nothing  of  their  house  in  the  City,"  said  Winning, 
"  but  they  have  lately  taken  a  splendid  one  in  Portland  Place, 
where  they  are  beginning  to  live  with  their  usual  discreet  extra 
vagance,  and  calculating  hospitality." 

Mrs.  Mountjoy  no  sooner  heard  of  her  father's  difficulties,  so 
far  exceeding  all  she  had  ever  imagined,  than  she  was  very  un 
happy  ;  and  instantly  resolving  not  to  be  behind  the  Barsacs  in 
contributing  to  his  assistance,  she  commissioned  Mr.  Primrose  to 
call  on  the  merchant,  without  delay,  and  acquaint  him  with  her 
wishes  and  instructions.  Barsac,  however,  would  hear  of  noth 
ing  of  the  kind  ;  he  treated  the  proceedings  against  "  his  very 
reverend  relative"  with  the  utmost  contempt,  said  his  liabilities 
were  mere  trifles,  some  paltry  thousands  or  so,  not  worth  men 
tioning;  in  short,  he  had  taken  the  liberty  to  arrange  the  matter 
himself  in  a  friendly  way  during  "  his  very  reverend  relative's" 
temporary  absence  on  the  continent.  Barsac  avoided  mention 
ing  the  particular  spot  chosen  by  the  Dean  for  his  foreign  resi 
dence,  which  Mr.  Primrose  thought  extremely  discreet  on  the 
part  of  Mr.  Barsac. 

The  Barsacs  were  delighted  to  find  that  Mrs.  Mountjoy  was 
in  town,  hoping  through  her  interest  to  make  their  way  in  Lon 
don  society  more  rapidly  than  they  had  hitherto  succeeded  in 
doing ;  and  they  were  highly  gratified  also  at  the  opportunity  of 
reviving  their  old  acquaintance  with  Reuben  and  Primrose,  but 
especially  with  Mr.  De  Tabley. 

The  Barsacs  had  not  b-aen  long  in  London  without  discover 
ing  that  they  were  not  of  the  same  significance  there  as  they  bad 


19i  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

been  in  a  place  like  Hereford.  At  the  same  time,  with  a  good 
income,  the  disposition  to  be  gay,  and  a  decided  interest  in 
gaiety,  they  had  no  great  difficulty  in  surrounding  their  dinner- 
table  with  guests,  and  filling  their  house  with  well-dressed  people. 
Their  drawing-rooms  held  some  two  hundred  people — a  number 
far  exceeding  the  utmost  range  of  their  London  acquaintance. 
The  parlours  were  hung  with  family  portraits,  which  gave  Barsac 
occasion  for  continually  remarking  that  they  were  not  his  ances-  • 
tors;  from  which  you  were  of  course  to  infer  that  some  other 
mansion  contained  that  interesting  gallery  of  pictures.  In  short 
the  house  suited  them  perfectly,  and  they  laid  themselves  out  for 
enjoying  themselves  in  it,  blending  pleasure  and  profit  together, 
in  the  laudable  spirit  of  Mrs.  Gilpin.  If  Mrs.  Mountjoy  was  de 
pendent  upon  Reuben  and  his  old  schoolfellows  for  her  success 
in  Burlington  Gardens,  still  more  were  the  Barsacs  upon  the 
same  allies  for  the  execution  of  their  designs  in  Portland-place. 
To  Reuben  and  his  aunt,  as  near  connections,  their  house  was 
thrown  open  as  a  matter  of  course,  but  De  Tabloy,  Primrose, 
and  Winning,  were  soon  requested  to  consider  themselves  on  the 
same  familiar  footing;  and  the  next  step  in  the  progress  of  this 
hearty  though  interested  hospitality,  went  very  nearly  the  length 
of  conveying  the  same  intimation  to  all  Mrs.  Mountjoy's  friends 
and  acquaintance,  old  and  new,  not  forgetting  Mr.  Leadenhall, 
Sir  Finch  Goldfinch,  and  Lord  Greenwich. 

"  I  must  do  the  Barsacs  the  justice  to  say,"  said  Primrose, 
"  that  they  are  not  deficient  in  gratitude;  we  often  did  them  the 
honour  of  supping  with  them  at  Hereford,  and  it  is  quite  right 
they  should  return  our  civilities  in  dinners  in  London." 

" But  now,  remember,"  said  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  "I  shall  never 
sacrifice  my  Wednesdays  and  Saturdays  to  their  ponderous  fa 
tiguing  dinners." 

"1  have  settled  all  that,"  said  Primrose.  "Let  Mrs.  Barsac 
attempt  a  dinner  on  a  Wednesday  or  Saturday  at  her  peril." 

While  they  were  speaking,  two  cards,  each  containing  a  rood 
of  pasteboard  arrived,  with  formal  notifications  of  a  dinner  and 
ball  at  Portland-place ;  the  dinner  for  a  Tuesday,  the  ball  on  the 
following  evening. 

"  That  will  do,"  said  Primrose. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  "the  ball  won't  interfere  with  our 
dinner  here." 

"  I  don't  think  I  shall  go  to  the  ball,"  said  Reuben. 

"  Not  go  to  the  ball,"  cried  Hyacinth.   "  I  love  a  ball ;  a  ball 


OK,  THE   COMING   MAN.  195 

is  a  mob  of  youth  and  beauty.  I  love  to  see  the  fans  fluttering, 
the  ankles  twinkling,  .the  bouquets  waving,  the  diamonds  spark 
ling,  and  the  eyes  out-beaming  them." 

"There  is  no  conversation  at  a  ball,"  said  Reuben. 

"You  would  like  to  address  the  mob,"  said  Hyacinth, 


CHAPTER  IE. 

% 

A  SOCIAL   REVOLUTION. 

REUBEN  grew  enthusiastic  about  those  dinners  of  his  aunt's,  and 
devoted  himself,  with  all  his  energies,  to  make  them  perfect,  and 
go  off  with  eclat.  He  almost  put  himself  to  school  under  the 
Gun  tens  and  Soyers  of  the  day,  though  no  man  was  less  of  an 
epicure ;  and  though  only  a  toper  in  theory,  and  chiefly  conver 
sant  with  Chian  and  Falernian,  he  took  up  the  subject  of  wines 
practically,  bought  works  upon  the  vineyards,  and  (as  Primrose 
said)  went  about  with  a  lantern,  like  Diogenes,  looking  for  that 
truly  noble  work  of  God,  an  honest  wine-merchant.  The  same 
pains  he  took  with  every  convivial  arrangement ;  tried  tables  of 
all  shapes  and  sizes,  squares,  rounds,  and  ovals;  made  experi 
ments  with  all  sorts  of  lamps  and  candles ;  actually  invented  a 
new  kind  of  chair  for  dinner ;  suggested  a  decided  improvement 
in  corkscrews;  almost  broke  his  aunt  in  the  beauties  and  novel- 
tiis  of  glass  and  china;  and  threatened  to  dismiss  footmen  if  the 
eouiiil  of  a  t'uuL  was  heard  on  the  carpet.  Then  he  investigated 
profoundly  the  much-agitated  and  yet  undecided  question  of  the 
number  of  guests  proper  or  necessary  to  make  a  banquet  most 
successful ;  and  alternately  astonished  and  amused  Mrs.  Mount- 
joy  by  the  incredible  trouble  he  went  to,  lest  the  sexes  should  not 
be  justly  balanced — lest  the  slightest  discordant  element  should 
find  its  way  into  the  party  ;  and  even  to  guard  against  the  pos 
sibility  of  the  guests  sitting  down  out  of  the  prescribed  and  pre 
determined  order. 

No  sooner  Imd  this  active  and  volatile  genius,  with  no  little 
expense  of  thought  and  inxiety,  with  considerable  physical  as 
•well  as  mental  exertion  and  a  very  serious  expense  to  his  fair 
relative,  brought  all  this  social  and  convivial  machinery  as  near 
perfection  as  perhaps  it  was  practicable  to  bring  it,  than  he  sud- 


196  THE     UMVKR    AL    GENIUS', 

denly  threw  it  all  up,  discovering,  or  having  it  brought  unto  niin 
in  some  dream  or  revelation,  that  regular  dining  was  waste  of 
time,  and  totally  irreconcilable  with  vigour  of  mind  and  body. 
Ho  begs  to  speak  slightingly  of  claret  and  champagne,  to  dis 
parage  French  cookery,  cry  up  mutton  chops,  and  magnify  tea 
and  coffee,  and  bread  and  butter. 

"  He  is  not  even  constant  to  his  dinner,"  cried  Primrose. 
"  The  man  who   will  not  stick  to  that  will  stick  to  nothing," 
said  Winning,  not,  however,  in  quite  as  serious  a  tone  as  Prim 
rose's. 

De  Tabley  said  very  little,  but  jhat  he  did  say  was  solemn 
and  bitter,  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  felt  more  than  he  had  words 
to  express. 

"  What  most  surprises  me,"  resumed  Winning,  "  is,  that  Med- 
licott  should  quarrel  with  the  table,  just  as  he  was  beginning  to 
get  a  little  character  in  London  for  conversation."  , 

"  He  was  beginning  to  talk  a  great  deal  too  much,"  said 
Primrose,  who  had  never  before  dealt  hardly  with  Reuben's  blem 
ishes. 

"  He  soliloquises,  he  lectures,  he  cannot  be  said  to  converse," 
said  De  Tabley  ;  "  however  I  could  have  forgiven  that ;  I  don't 
talk  much  myself  at  dinner." 

Reuben  had  better  have  attempted  any  revolution  than  one  in 
the  dining-room. 

Mrs.  Mountjoy,  amiable  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  was  only  too  complai 
sant,  too  accommodating,  as  usual ;  always  ready  to  sacrifice  her 
own  enjoyments  and  plans  to  the  pleasure  and  convenience  of  those 
she  loved  as  she  did  her  nephew.  It  was  not,  indeed,  a  case  for 
tears,  or  even  for  sighs ;  but  had  it  been  such,  Mrs.  Mountjoy 
would  have  wept  and  sighed  in  secret. 

If  there  was  one  man  living  less  excusable  than  another  for 
forgetting  the  maxim,  that  "  there  is  a  time  for  all  things,"  that 
man  was  Mi-.  Medlicott,  the  lesson  had  been  so  diligently  inculcated 
on  him  by  his  old  schoolmistress,  Mrs.  Hopkins ;  but  he  was  now 
either  so  oblivious  or  neglectful  of  it,  that  in  the  midst  of  the 
pleasures  of  London,  and  the  guest  of  his  aunt  who  laid  herself 
out  to  introduce  him  into  all  its  gaieties,  nothing  would  serve  him 
but  to  work  within  an  inch  of  his  life.  The  truant  of  Cambridge 
became  a  model  student  in  Burlington  Gardens,  and  good,  easy 
Mrs.  Mountjoy  soon  had  business  enough  on  her  hands  making 
arrangements  for  the  indulgence  of  this  new  and  most  unseasona 
ble  ii-euk.  He  sent  to  Cambridge  for  all  his  books,  even,  the  ency- 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  197 

clopnedia  which  Mr.  Cox  had  made  him  a  present  of.  His  aunt 
assisted  him  with  her  own  hands  to  arrange  his  library  in  his 
chamber ;  pitying,  all  the  time,  the  poor  head  destined  to  be 
freighted  with  so  huge  a  cargo  of  learning.  Reuben  attempted  to 
make  her  understand  his  mother's  doctrine  of  the  boundless  ex- 
pansiveness  of  the  human  understanding,  but  to  very  little  pur 
pose.  She  had,  however,  so  high  an  opinion  of  the  seventy  of 
intellectual  pursuits  that  she  thought  it  indispensable  to  do  all  in 
her  power  to  mitigate  it  by  the  most  luxurious  arrangements  she 
could  devise.  She  provided  Reuben  with  the  cosiest  arm-chairs 
she  could  procure  ;  he  had  .two  of  them  constructed  upon  differ 
ent  principles,  one  with  an  apparatus  attached  for  supporting 
books,  and  even  for  writing,  should  the  student  feel  inclined  to 
compose  in  a  recumbent  or  languishing  posture.  Beside  the 
chairs,  there  was  a  soft  spacious  sofa,  on  which  he  might  dispread 
himself,  when  it  was  his  fancy  to  lie  on  his  back,  or  his  face,  read 
ing  or  writing.  There  was  a  superb  library-table  with  a  desk  in 
the  centre  of  the  room,  and  a  smaller  moveable  one  besides,  which 
he  might  moor  by  the  fire-side  when  he  was  cold,  or  station  near 
the  window  on  a  foggy  morning.  There  was  also  a  tall  desk  to 
road  at  standing,  when  the  soft  chairs  and  sofas  were  too  hard  for 
him.  For  his  books  he  had  a  revolving  receptacle  with  several 
sides  to  it,  which  he  could  wheel  round  with  a  touch  of  his  finger, 
so  as  to  enable  him  to  change  his  studies  in  a  twinkling — a  de 
vice  of  his  aunt's,  which  she  must  surely  have  introduced  under 
the  impression  that  Reuben  was  in  danger  of  nan-owing  his  mind 
by  devoting  himself  too  doggedly  to  some  limited  course  of  read 
ing.  Finally,  she  presented  him  with  the  most  charming  dress 
ing-gown  and  slippers  of  black  velvet,  an  appropriate  morning 
toilette  for  a  young  man  studying  for  holy  orders.  In  short,  she 
omitted  nothing  that  ingenuity,  quickened  by  affection,  and  sof 
tened  by  feminine  delicacy,  could  suggest  to  assuage  "the  sorrows 
of  a  poor  young  man"  condemned  to  the  mines  of  theological 
learning. 

"  And  now,  my  dear,"  she  said,  about  to  leave  him  to  him 
self  for  the  first  time,  after  installing  him  in  all  this  luxury,  "is 
there  anything  more  I  can  do  to  make  your  little  study  comforta 
ble  ?  I  trust  you  will  not  hesitate  to  mention  it,  if  anything 
occurs  to  you." 

"  My  dear  aunt,  it  is  only  too  complete ;  if  there  is  a  fault,  it 
is  that  my  apartment  is  too  comfortable.  How  Primrose  will 
laugh  to  see  me  in  this  magnificent  robe-de-chambre,  probably  as 
rich  as  was  ever  worn  by  a  Cardinal." 


198  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIL8  J 

"  I  hope  and  trust,  my  dear,  you  will  find  it  warm ; — but  does 

the  light  of  the  room  suit  yon  ?  is  it  the  proper  colour  ?  the  blinds 
might  be  pink,  or  violet,  or  rose-colour,  whatever  tint  in  fact  you 
please."  . 

"  All  is  couIeur-de-TDse"  said  Reuben  gallantly,  "in  the  society 
of  my  aunt  Mountjoy." 

She  smiled,  embraced  him,  and  left  him  to  his  labours. 

Going  to  her  own  room,  she  next  rang  for  Agatha,  her  maid, 
informed  her  with  the  greatest  solemnity  of  the  nature  and  im 
portance  of  Reuben's  studies,  and  warned  her  to  go  up  and  down 
stairs  with  as  light  a  step  as  possible  during  the  early  part  of  the 
day. 

"Mr.  Medlicott,"  she  said,  "will  always  study  until  four 
o'clock,  except  from  two  to  half-past  two,  when  he  will  take  an 
early  dinner.  From  four  to  six  he  will  exercise ;  at  six  he  will 
take  cottee ;  and  then  he  will  resume  his  studies.  I  must  insist 
upon  there  being  no  noise  whatever  in  the  house  as  long  as  he  is 
in  it." 

"You  had  better,  madam,"  said  the  maid,  "speak  to  the  land 
lady  as  well." 

Mrs.  Mountjoy  took  the  hint,  and  down  she  went  immediately 
to  the  landlady,  and  to  her  communicated  also  what  the  pursuits 
of  her  nephew  were,  and  how  momentous  it  was  that  silence,  the 
most  profound,  should  reign  in  the  precincts  of  his  bower. 

This  was  a  pleasant  nephew  to  have  for  a  gay  widow  in  gay 
lodgings,  with  gay  dispositions  and  designs  !  Fortunately,  she 
had  Mr.  Primrose  to  take  Reuben's  place  at  her  side  in  prome 
nades  and  at  balls  and  concerts,  or  she  might  have  found  the 
London  season  hang  heavy  on  her  hands.  As  to  Hyacinth,  he 
was  probably  pleased  with  the  onerous  duties  that  devolved  upon 
him  in  consequence  of  his  friend's  perverseness,  or  he  would  have 
been  more  incensed  at  Reuben's  entire  conduct  at  this  period  than 
he  appears  to  have  been.  The  dinners,  however,  though  not  so 
frequent,  were  not  entirely  given  up.  Though  Reuben  was  too 
intellectual  to  dine  at  seven  o'clock  with  a  pleasant  party,  other 
people  were  not.  There  was  generally  one  dinner  in  the  week, 
at  least ;  and  when  Reuben  condescended  to  appear  Mrs.  Mountjoy 
was  in  ecstacies,  and  loaded  him  with  thanks,  and  even  with 
more  attention,  and  more  devoted  audience,  than  her  invited 
guests. 

Though  Mrs.  Mountjoy  probably  enjoyed  Mr.  Primrose's  com 
pany  more,  she  was  prouder  of  Reuben's ;  and  whenever  he  pro- 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  199 

posed  to  take  her  with  him  to  the  British  Museum,  to  a  lecture, 
a  meeting  of  some  learned  or  scientific  society,  or  some  ramble 
through  the  town  to  visit  ancientnooks  and  corners,  of  which  he 
was  passionately  fond,  she  was  very  unhappy  when  anything  ab 
solutely  prevented  her  from  accompanying  him.  Poor  Mrs. 
Mountjoy  !  she  got.  more  than  one  cold  in  public  libraries,  whilo 
lieu  ben  was  making  extracts  from  dusty  volumes ;  and  many  a 
time  did  she  visit  the  Elgin  Marbles,  and  the  Albemarle-street 
Institution,  when  she  would  have  greatly  preferred  a  stroll  to  the 
Soho  Bazaar,  or  shopping  in  the  Burlington  Arcade. 

In  one  of  his  excursions  through  London  he  met  with  a  curi 
ous  proof  of  the  success  of  one  of  his  own  literary  efforts,  though 
he  was  not  personally  the  gainer  by  it  He  had  taken  his  aunt 
with  him  into  the  city;  shown  her  the  courts  where  Doctor  John 
son  lodged:  marched  her  through  Clement's  Inn  and  the  Temple 
Gardens ;  then  to  Cock  Lane,  famed  for  the  apparition ;  from 
thence  to  Crosby  Hall  and  Christ's  Hospital ;  concluding  the  an 
tiquarian  ramble  with  a  peep  into  Doctors'  Commons,  and  the 
Heralds'  College,  or  Menagerie,  on  St.  Bennet's  Hill,  where,  in 
the  little  quadrangle  of  the  latter  quaint  old  institution  (as  remote 
from  public  view  as  from  public  utility),  he  happened  to  meet  his 
old  pupil  Lord  Appleby. 

Lord  Appleby  said  he  had  been  calling  to  see  a  common  friend 
of  theirs — no  less  a  personage  than  Blue  Mantle,  pursuivant. 

Reuben  had  no  notion  he  had  the  honour  of  knowing  Blue 
Mantle. 

"  You  may  remember  little  Griffin,"  said  his  lordship. 

"To  be  sure.  Blue  Mantle  is  just  the  appointment  to  suit 
him  :  a  snug  thing,  I  dare  say." 

"  Five  hundred  a  year,  and  little  or  no  duty ;  owes  it  en 
tirely  to  his  own  talents  and  exertions,  poor  fellow.  Wrote  a  pa 
per  on  dragons  and  lions  rampant ;  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
Earl  Marshal,  who  gave  him  the  first  thing  he  had  to  dispose  of." 

How  indignant.  Mrs.  Mounijoy  Avas  when  Reuben  informed 
lier,  ftfter  parting  with  Lord  Appleby,  of  the  real  authorship  of  the 
article  which  had  led  to  the  advancement  of  the  shabby  and  au- 
dacious  little  Mr.  Grift  in  !  Her  only  comfort  was,  that  she  sup 
posed  Ueitbon  would  not  have  accepted  the  office. 

"  No,  not  Blue  Mantle,"  said  Reuben  ;  "  Clarencieux,  or  Nor- 
roy,  would  be  another  matter; — as  to  Griffin,  poor  devil,  I  forgive 
him  ;  I  suppose  he  was  very  hungry." 

_T;  imrose  was  exceedingly  pleasant  with  W  ming  on  the  idea 


200  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

of  Reuben  holding  the  office  of  a  pursuivant  or  herald,  the  busi 
ness  of  such  a  post  having  been^jtatcd  by  a  noble  and  learned 
lord  to  consist  "  in  walking  in  processions  and  holding  one's 
tongue"  for  the  latter  of  which  duties  Mr.  Mediicolt  was  so  emi 
nently  qualified. 

There  was,  indeed  no  danger  of  his  neglecting  to  cultivate  the 
gift  of  speech,  whether  for  private  or  other  purposes.  As  to  table 
talk,  he  was  already  far  more  proficient  therein  than  was  agreea 
ble  to  such  of  his  friends  as  were  not  content  to  subside  into  mere 
listeners,  while  Reuben  recited,  lectured,  quoted,  narrated,  argued, 
expatiated,  and  harangued.  He  seemed  ambitious  of  rivalling 
Mr.  Bavard,  instead  of  being  instructed  and  warned  by  so  bad  an 
example.  Those  who  "were  very  kind  to  his  virtues,"  and  more 
than  "  a  little  blind  to  his  faults,"  admired  him  exceedingly.  So  did 
a  considerable  number  of  persons  also  who,  being  mutes  themselves, 
thought  everybody  who  could  talk  continuously  for  half-an-hour  a 
prodigy  of  cleverness.  But  the  judicious  minority  found  Reuben  a 
great  deal  more  fluent  than  agreeable;  even  his  dearest  friends  did 
not  hesitate  to  say  that  he  deliberately  practised  upon  the  guests  at 
his  aunt's  table,  to  improve  himself  in  confidence  and  loquacity. 

But  it  was  "  the  talking  era,"  and  why  should  not  Reuben 
Medlicwtt,  like  others,  talk  himself  into  reputation  ?  Seizing  every 
occ'.-ision  for  speaking,  he  systematically  neglected  what  Bishop 
Bulk')-  calls  "  the  obvious  occasions  for  silence,"  easy  as  they  are 
to  be  distinguished  by  everybody,  "namely,  when  a  man  has 
nothing  to  say,  or  nothing  but  what  is  better  unsaid."  He  came 
into  society  with  no  de^u  but  display,  and  habitually  entertained 
himself  at  the  expense  of  the  company,  over  whom  he  tyrannised 
like  a  Czar,  or  a  President  It  was  the  reverse  of  conversation, 
for  it  excluded  all  reciprocity.  Reuben  discoursed,  and  his  idolis-  ' 
ing  friends  or  enduring  victims  listened.  He  was  the  Protec 
tionist  of  private  society,  often  to  the  extent  of  imposing  a  p  v> 
hibitory  duty  upon  every  colloquial  commodity  not  of  his  O\NI 
production,  no  matter  how  interesting  and  attractive  to  other  peo 
ple.  As  to  the  article  he  supplied  himself,  there  was  a  good  deal 
in  it  of  what  made  Coleridge  so  remarkable ;  his  talk  was  a  sort 
of  sparkling  mist ;  the  majority  applauded  but  nobody  understood. 
You  knew  what  he  was  talking  about,  but  never  could  tell  exactly 
what  he  was  saying  about  it.  If  there  was  a  meaning,  it  was  be 
yond  the  depth  of  the  expertest  divers ;  but  for  that  very  reason 
it  was  presumed  to  be  a  pearl.  He  was  particularly  given  to  illus 
tration,  and  his  similes,  metaphors,  quotations,  and  anecdotes  (of 


OB,  THE  COMING   MAN.  201 

wirich,  as  we  have  seen,  he  had  a  bank  of  hit  own,  where  his  credit 
was  unlimited),  were  very  pleasing  and  pretty  in  themselves,  but 
what  they  illustrated  was  a  difficult  thing  to  find  out.  In  short, 
it  was  just  the  kind  of  eloquence  to  wrap  all  sorts  of  absurdities, 
paradoxes,  and  delusions  in ;  it  captivated  visionaries,  it  delighted 
enthusiasts,  it  charmed  mountebanks,  it  won  the  hearts  of  women 
especially.  It  was  just  the  oratory  for  Exeter  Hall,  the  Dublin 
Rotunda,  or  the  Caledonian  Chapel ;  it  would  never  have  answered 
for  the  bar,  the  House,  or  even  for  the  pulpit  of  a  quiet  unfanati- 
cal  parish. 

Primrose  called  on  Winning  one  morning,  after  a  dinner  at 
which  Mr.  Mediicott  had  been  particularly  disregardful  of  the 
rights  of  others,  in  his  ambition  to  exhibit  himself. 

"Can  anything  be  done?"  he  said,  "to  open  our  friend  Reu 
ben's  eyes  to  the  monstrous  indiscretion  and  indecency  of  mon 
opolizing  conversation  as  he  does.  He  eclipses  Bavard.  Nobody 
could  get  in  a  word  yesterday.  If  he  goes  on  this  way  he  will 
be  as  great  a  bore  as  — — ,  or ,  or ." 

Winning  agreed  that  it  would  be  most  desirable  to  make 
Mediicott  sensible  of  the  great  mistake  he  was  guilty  of,  but  could 
not  think  of  any  means  of  doing  it. 

"  It  was  occurring  to  me,"  said  Primrose,  "  that  you  might, 
with  propriety,  give  him  a  hint  upon  the  subject." 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  said  Winning,  laughing,  "  do  you  remem 
ber  the  fable  of  the  monkey  and  the  roasted  chesnuts  ?  A  hint 
from  yourself  would  be  as  useful  as  from  me.  Suppose  you 
try  it* 

*'  I  never  was  good  at  giving  advice,"  said  Primrose. 

"  I  was  very  great  at  it  when  I  was  a  boy,"  said  Winning. 
"  I  have  long  since  learned  that  to  tread  on  a  friend's  faults  is 
nearly  as  dangerous  as  treading  on  his  corns." 

"  I  believe  you  are  right,"  said  Primrose,  foiled  in  his  ingeni 
ous  attempt  to  make  a  cat's-paw  of  Winning. 

Possibly  Mr.  Mediicott  was  of  opinion  himself  that  he  had 
become  sufficiently  accomplished  for  all  practical  purposes,  as  a 
talker  in  private  society  ;  for  he  soon  began  to  profit  by  the  op 
portunities  which  London  afforded  him  for  qualifying  himself  to 
be  equally  ready  and  fluent  upon  public  occasions. 

His  mother  had  frequently  alluded,  in  her  letters,  to  the  pro 
fessors  of  elocution,  some  of  whom  undertook  to  instruct  young 
men  in  all  its  branches — the  senate,  the  bar,  the  Church,  and 
even  for  ranting  at  Exeter  Hall,  or  spouting  at  public  dinners. 


202  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

"  My  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  one  morning  at  breakfast,  as 
her  eye  glanced  at  the  advertisement  of  one  of  these  great  mas 
ters,  in  the  columns  of  die  Times,  "  if  you  think  it  would  be  of 
use  to  you  to  take  lessons  from  tins  accomplished  gentleman,  only 
let  me  know.  You  cannot  have  a  more  favourable  opportunity 
than  the  present  for  improving  yourself  in  this  way.  It  will  be 
a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  incur  that  or  any  other  expense,  neces 
sary  for  your  success  in  life." 

Mr.  Medlicott  owned  that  he  felt  strongly  disposed  to  place 
himself  for  a  while  under  the  instruction  of  Professor  Cbatterton, 
and  a  day  did  not  pass  without  a  syllabus  having  been  obtained 
of  that  distinguished  gentleman's  course  of  lectures. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  SCHOOL  OF   EHETORIO. 

THE  general  card  or  prospectus  of  Professor  Chatterton  (whose 
School  of  Elocution,  as  it  was  termed,  was  held  in  Leicester 
Square),  announced  the  intended  delivery  of  four  courses  of  lec 
tures  during  the  London  season,  on  the  theory  and  practice  of 
public  speaking,  in  its  several  leading  applications  to  the  senate, 
the  bar,  the  pulpit,  and  miscellaneous  purposes,  such  as  county 
meetings,  public  dinners,  vestries,  mobs,  weddings,  and  demon 
strations  generally. 

•There  was  a  particular  syllabus  for  each  course.  That  of  the 
lectures  on  pulpit  eloquence  was  as  follows.  The  reader  will 
please  to  imagine  the  enthusiastic  Mr.  Medlicott  and  the  buxom 
Mrs.  Mountjoy,  reading  it  together  at  the  tea-table,  with  all  the 
gravity  becoming  the  subject. 

"Lecture  I.  Importance  of  the  Lungs,  Throat,  and  Tongue  to  Public 
Speakers  in  general,  and  to  Cleigymen  in  particular,  of  all  persuasions. 

—  Oratory  an  art,   especially  Pulpit  oratory — Encouragements   to   the 
study  of  it — Easy  acquisition  of,   in  twelve  lessons.  —  Idea  of  a  perfect 
sermon.  — Professor  will   endeavour  to  embody  it  in  a  Specimen  of  his 
own  Composition.  — Strictures  on  Taylor,  South,  Barrow,  and  Tillotson 

—  Their  several  defects  criticised.     The  Lecture  will  conclude  with  a 
Speculation  on  the  effect  Demosthenes    ,  ould  have  produced  had  he 
adopted  the  Profession  of  the  Church. 


OR,  THE  COMING  ILLtf.  203 

"Lecture  2.  General  principles  of  Pronunciation  —  Special  Rules 
for  the  reading-desk  and  Pulpit — Solemnity — Unction  —  Dignity  — 
Action,  Action,  Action  —  Passion  —  Emotion — Sentiment. — Vital  Im 
portance  of  Earnestness  —  of  Look  —  Voice  —  Manner. —  Origin  and  De 
rivation  of  the  word  Pulpit  —  the  Pulpit  a  stage  —  the  Preacher 'to  hold 
the  mirror  up  to  nature.' 

"Lectured.  Rhetorical  Artifices  —  Adaptation  to  Sacred  purposes  — 
Use  of  the  Hands  and  Arms — the  Eyes  —  the  Eyebrows — Pauses  — 
Starts  —  Points  —  Transitions  —  Tones,  Intoninjg,  and  Intonation. — Dis 
tinctions  to  be  observed  in  Churches,  Cathedrals,  Chapels,  and  Conven 
ticles —  Drawling,  whining  —  a  digression  on  nasal  eloquence.  Lecture 
will  conclude  with  a  rehearsal  by  the  Professor  of  one  of  Mr.  Irving's 
Sermons,  in  the  course  of  which  he  will  ih!ro<!i;ce  some  Criticisms  on  tho 
Unknown  Tongue,  and  Remarks  on  Jargon  in  general,  in  connexion  with 
the  study  of  Rhetoric. 

"Lectured,  Rules  and  directions  of  Particular  and  Critical  Occa 
sions —  Preaching  in  the  Chapel  iloyal  —  before  Archbishops  and  Bishops 

—  in  the  presence  of  the  Lord  Chancellor — Rhetorical  Incense — Pleas 
ing  Personalities,  &C. 

"  Lecture  5.  Charity  Sermons  —  the  emotion  of  Pity  — '  If  you  have 
tears,  prepare  to  shed  them  now '  —  Charitable  Statistics  difficult  to 
handle — how  to  reconcile  Petticoats  with  Pathos,  and  extract  eloquence 
from  Slate-pencils.  The  Professor  will  illustrate  his  precepts  by  deliver 
ing  a  Speech  of  Mr.  Hume's,  in  the  character  of  a  Minister  of  the  Kirk. 

"Lecture^.  Miscellaneous  hints  and  suggestions  —  In  tenui  gloria  — 
Coughing,  its  management  —  capable  of  being  made  effective  in  the 
Pulpit  —  Pulpit-lozenges,  prepared  by  Professor  Chatterton,  and  strongly 
recommended  to  the  Clergy.  —  Remarks  on  the  Snuff-box  —  Dissuasives 
from  Snuff  in  general  —  Sneezing  not  as  manageable  as  coughing,  with  a 
view  to  Oratorical  effect.  —  Peroration,  embodying  all  the  previous  prin 
ciples,  with  the  results  of  the  Professor's  experience,  in  a  sermon  on 
Peace  and  Good-will,  supposed  to  be  preached  before  the  Bishops  and, 
Clergy  of  the  Church  of  England,  assembled  in  Convocation." 

"  Well,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  "  that  does  seem  to  be  a 
very  excellent  and  judicious  course  of  lectures,  and  "I  cannot 
doubt  but  it  must  be  highly  improving  to  attend  them." 

"The  Professor,"  said  Reuben,  "has  certainly  shown  his 
judgment  in  the  choice  of  the  subject  to  preach  on  before  Convo 
cation.  But  we  are  not  quite  done  with  the  bill  of  fare:  here  is 
an  N.  13.  at  the  bottom,  and  a  postscript  after  that  again." 

"A  Supplementary  Lecture  will  be  given  by  Madame  Chatterton,  on 
the  Dress  and  Address  of  a  Clergyman.  —  The  Look'ti^-Glass,  its  impor 
tance — Canonical  Drapery  —  the  Hail  — Wigs  —  Attention  to  the  Teeth 

—  Use  of  the  Handkerchief  in  the  Pulpit — Cambric — Cambrai  —  Arch 
bishop  F6:i^lon  —  Scents,  Rings,  &c.  &c.  Tickets  Half-a-Guinea. 

"  P.  S.  Professor  and  Madamr  Chatterton  will  give  Private  Lessons  on 
all  the  above  topics  adapted  to  the  use  of  gentlemen  of  the  Church  of 
Home,  or  disposed  to  embrace  ita  Doctrines.     The  Professor  having  lately 
9* 


204:  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

returned  from  the  States  of  the  Church,  has  had  the  bncir  of  importing 
into  England  sundry  interesting  novelties  in  Theatrical  Devotion,  inclu 
ding  several  cases  of  Relies  in  admirable  preservation,  and  undoubtedly 
genuine,  lie  bi-gs  also  to  recommend  his  Tract  ou  the  all-important  sub 
ject  of  Holy  Histrionics,  dedicated,  with  permission,  to  the  Lord  Bish 
op  of . 

"  Surplices,  Crucifixes,  Rosaries,  and  Disciplines  (the  use  of  them), 
Gratis,  during  the  Course,/!? 

Reuben  was  not  surprised  to  find  that  Mr.  Chatterton  had 
some  years  previously  been  a  player  of  some  note,  at  several  of 
the  minor  theatres.  Of  course,  he  was  only  the  better  qualified 
to  teach  what  Mr.  Medlicott  wanted  to  learn — the  artistic  ma 
nagement  of  the  voice,  the  play  of  the  hands,  the  bearing  of  the 
body ;  in  short,  all  the  external  part  of  oratory,  which  is,  no 
doubt,  in  a  great  measure,  an  histrionic  art — a  truth  which  may 
help  to  account  for  the  concurrent  decline  of  eloquence  and  the 
drama  of  late  years  in  England. 

The  Professor,  who  was  attired  in  decent  black,  as  became  a 
teacher  of  the  clergy,  made  no  secret  of  his  former  calling,  but  on 
the  contrary  put  it  prominently  forward  among  his  qualifications ; 
and  in  truth  nobody  but  a  player  of  considerable  skill  could  have 
maintained  not  only  his  own  gravity,  but  that  of  his  disciples, 
through  a  course  of  instructions  in  which  there  was  so  much  real 
and  almost  unavoidable  imposture. 

"  Church,  chapel,  or  conventicle  ?" — with  the  bow  of  the  old 
trade,  and  the  solemn  tone  of  the  new  one,  was  the  Professor's 
first  inquiry,  when  Mr.  Medlicott  intimated  his  wish  to  put  him 
self  under  his  tuition  for  the  clerical  portion  of  the  lectures. 

"  The  Established  Church,"  was  of  course  the  reply. 

"  High  or  Low — Cambridge  or  Oxford  ?"  inquired  the  Pro 
fessor. 

Reuben  answered  with  a  smile,  which  led  Professor  Chatter- 
ton  into  an  explanation  of  the  necessity  he  was  under  of  making 
separate  classes  of  his  pupils,  from  the  two  universities.  Reuben 
was  astounded :  he  had  never  before  heard  of  the  new  school 
of  divinity  at  Oxford,  which  was  then,  indeed,  only  in  its  infancy. 

"Ah,"  said  the  Professor,  "it  is  very  little  known  as  yet,  but 
the  world  will  hear  enough  of  it  by-and-by.  My  Oxford  class  is 
not  numerous,  but  it  is  steadily  increasing,  and  contains  my  most 

diligent  and  promising  pupils.  There  is  Mr.  N n,  Mr. 

W d,  Mr.  St.  John  Crozier,  Mr.  Cyprian  Palmer,  Lord 

Henry  Holyrood, — very  promising  young  men,  all  of  them,  1 
assure  you," 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN.  205 

"  I  am  happy  to  hear  there  is  likely  to  be  such  f  harvest  of 
eloquent  preachers,"  said  Reuben. 

"  Weil,"  said  the  Professor,  "  rny  Oxford  pupils  d  m't  attend 
to  that  so  much  as  to — what  shall  I  call  it? — the- -I  don't  like 
to  use  the  word  pantomimic ;  you  know  what  I  mean — the  pageant 
— the  drama — but  perhaps  you  have  seen  my  tract  on  '  Holy 

Histrionics,'  dedicated  by  permission  to  the  Lord  Bishop  of ?" 

Reuben  was  more  and  more  amazed,  and  inquired  the  name  of 
this  new  Oxonian  sect. 

"  Tractarians,"  said  the  ci-dcvant  comedian.  "'Perhaps  I  may 
flatter  myself  that  the  title  of  my  little  work,  originally  suggested 
the  name." . 

"  It  seems  to  bear  a  strong  family  likeness  to  Popery,  all  this," 
said  Reubeli.  "  I  now  see  the  meaning  of  some  words  in  your 
prospectus  which  at  first  I  did  not  understand — '  bdonying  to  the 
Church  of  Rome,  or  disposed  to  embrace  it.1 " 

The  Professor  showed  an  anxiety  to  distinguish  between  the 
system  of  his  Oxford  pupils  and  Hat  Popery,  but  perceiving  that 
he  made  no  great  impression  on  Reuben,  he  changed  the  subject,  de 
claring  that  he  made  it  a  rule  not  to  inteafere  with  the  doctrines 
of  the  gentleanen  who  honoured  him  with  their  attendance :  he 
did  not  pretend  to  teach  divinity — that,  of  course,  had  its  import 
ance — he  was  prepared  to  give  lessons  to  gentlemen  of  all  per 
suasions,  without  distinction ;  if  a  Mufti,  or  a  danciaig  Dervish, 
came  to  his  school,  he  would  not  refuse  to  give  him  the  benefit 
of  his  instructions. 

Mr.  Medlicott  thought  the  views  of  the  Professor  just  and 
reasonable,  and  the  lectures  commenced  the  following  day. 

Mr.  Chatterton  filled  up  the  outlines  of  his  syllabus  with  great 
ingenuity  and  spirit.  As  might  have  been  expected,  he  treated 
learning,  argument,  and  things  of  that  sort,  as  matters  of  second 
ary  importance ;  and  some  of  his  hearers,  Reuben  among  others, 
more  than  doubted  whether  his  specimen  of  a  perfect  discourse 
was  equal  to  a  sermon  of  Barrow  or  Massillon.  But  he  declaimed 
with  energy,  and  laid  down  many  rules  which  speakers  in  gene 
ral  would  do  well  to  observe,  mixed  with  others  which  not  one 
man  in  a  hundred  could  possibly  attempt  to  follow,  without  mak 
ing  himself  supremely  ridiculous.  Reuben  speedily  discovered 
(particularly  in  the  second  and  third  lectures)  the  source  of  many 
of  the  affectations  which  he  had  seen  practised  in  some  of  the 
metropolitan  pulpits.  Indeed,  he  remarked  two  young  clergy 
men  on  the  front  benches, — one  was  Mr.  Arabj,  the  author  of 


203  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

Melanethon,  in  twenty  books — who  were  already  beginning  to  be 
t:iike;l  of  a«  eloquent  preachers ;  and  he  did  not  fail  to  observe, 
also,  that  they  redoubled  their  attention  to  the  lecturer  when  he 
came  to  give  his  instructions  for  special  occasions,  such  as  preach 
ing  before  a  bishop,  or  in  presence  of  the  Lord  Chancellor, 
lieuben,  however,  though  the  most  disinterested  of  the  class,  was 
soon  more  intent  than  any  one  else  upon  the  subject  of  the 
lectures,  and  made  his  enthusiasm  so  conspicuous  that  the  Pro 
fess  >r  was  excessively  flattered,  and  at  length  invited  him  to 
occupy  a  chair  in  the  most  distinguished  position  in  the  room. 
This  led  to  private  conversations  when  the  lecture  was  over,  and 
one  of  these  conversations  ended  in  Reuben  inviting  the  Profes 
sor  to  dinner  in  Burlington  Gardens.  Primrose,  De  Tabley,  and 
Winning  dined  with  the  widow  the  same  evening,  and  Keuben 
yielded  the  pas  to  the  Professor,  who,  finding  himself -very  com 
fortable,  made  himself  very  agreeable,  and  had  the  judgment  to 
refrain  from  giving  his  model  sermon,  diverting  the  company 
nearly  as  well  with  admirable  imitations  of  Dowton,  Liston,  and 
Matthews.  As  the  wine  produced  its  effects,  Chatterton  began  to 
talk  at  large  of  his  profession,  and  to  disclose  many  of  its  arcana, 
about  which  Winning  and  Hyacinth  were  very  curious,  Winning 
being  particularly  anxious  to  find  out  what  members  of  the  bar 
frequented  the  school  of  oratory  in  Leicester-square.  It  soon  ap 
peared  that  the  lectures  were  the  smallest  part  of  Mr.  Chatterton'3 
professional  engagements ;  he  gave  private  instructions,  also,  to 
clergymen,  lawyers,  senators,  and  even  to  simple  squires,  who, 
though  not  in  parliament;  were  called  on  to  second  resolutions  at 
county  meetings,  or  propose  healths  at  dinners. 

"  I  should  have  thought,"  said  Winning,  "  that  the  chief  em 
barrassment  of  a  squire  would  be  to  find  the  speech  itself." 

The  Professor  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  intimated  that  he 
did  a  1itf!e  occasionally  himself  in  the  speech-making  line  for  the 
squirearchy. 

"  Eloquence  is  not  to  be  had  out  of  buckskin,"  said  Winning, 
"  any  more  than  a  silk  purse — you  know  the  saying." 

"Bueksin,"  said  the  Professor,  "cuts  a  wonderful  figure 
whenever  the  church  is  supposed  in  danger,  as  some  think  it 
is  just  now.  A  squire's  lungs  are  made  of  the  same  material  as 
his  breeches,  and  it's  as  easy  to  shout  '  No  Popery !'  as  to  cry 
'  Tally-ho  !'  A  dozen  repetitions,  at  short  intervals,  of  the  phrase 
'No  Popery,'  with  any  stuff  you  please  to  fill  up  the  crevices, 
make  a  capital  speech  for  a  "  fine  old  English  gentleman"  in  the 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  207 

Protestant  interest ;  but  the  speech  must  always  end  vith  "  a  long 
pull,  a  strong  pull,  and  a  pull  all  together," — recollect  that,  gentle 
men,  if  a  squire  ever  requests  you  to  compose  an  oration  for  him. 
The  last  sentence  is  the  only  one,  in  fact,  that  is  ever  heard 
between  the  clatter  the  orator  makes  himself,  with  his  boots  and 
stick  on  the  platform,  and  the  uproar  and  rioting  of  the  bold 
peasantry  in  the  body  of  the  court.  Baronets  in  general  make 
the  best  hits,  as  public  speakers,  in  a  constitutional  crisis.  The 
Baronets  will  have  their  clay  yet,  take  my  word  for  it.  Every 
dog  has,  sooner  or  later.  The  deuce  of  it  is,  that  when  one 
of  your  Sir  Johns  and  Sir  Rogers  once  gets  to  the  '  long  pull ' 
without  breaking  down,  and  is  complimented  by  the  county 
paper  for  his  '  manly  eloquence,'  he  never  gives  a  silent  vote  for 
the  remainder  of  his  life." 

"  I  have  met  with  a  story,"  said  Reuben,  "  of  a  certain  devout 
orator  of  the  class  you  allude  to,  who  having  sat  down  amidst 
deafening  cheers,  was  overheard  mumbling  to  himself,  'non  nobis 
Domine,' — only  for  the  Latin  I  should  say  he  must  have  been  a 
baronet,  and  one  of  your  men  in  buckskin." 

"  Probably  a  man  of  Bucks,"  said  Primrose. 

"  Have  you  any  Irish  pupils  ? "  said  Winning. 

"  They  come  to  me,"  said  Chatterton,  "  but  they  don't  want 
me." 

"Do  they  pay  you?" — asked  De  Tabley. 

"  They  will,  I  make  no  doubt,"  said  the  Professor,  with  comic 
gravity,  "they  will,  when  they  get  their  own  again.  Their 
estates  were  all  forfeited,  you  know,  poor  fellows.  I  have  six 
Irish  pupils  at  present,  and  they  all  confidently  expect  to  come 
into  parliament  before  long, — 1  have  polite  invitations  at  this 
moment,  I  assure  you,  to  three  castles  on  the  banks  of  the 
Shannon,  and  positive  promises  of  ever  so  many  elegant  situa 
tions  at  the  disposal  of  the  Lord-Lieutenant." 

"You  are  not  often  required  to  write  speeches  for  the  Irish 
men,  I  should  think,"  said  Winning. 

"  I  only  wish  I  could  make  speeches  at  the  rate  they  do,"  said 
Mr.  Chatterton ;  "  but  then  Ireland  is  such  a  great  manufacturing 
country,  you  know." 

"  Hold,  Professor,  I  believe  you  are  mistakec  there,"  cried 
Winning. 

"  What  does  Ireland  manufacture  except  butter  and  bacon  ? " 
asked  Reuben. 

"  I  know  of  nothing  but  oratory,"  said  the  Professor,  "and  it 


208  THE    UNIVERSAL    vBENIUS  J 

•was  oratory  I  meant,  -when  I  spoke  of  Irish  manufactures- 
Dublin  beats  Manchester  hollow  for  fustian.  I  don't  mean  to  say 
that  John  Bull  has  not  the  talent  also,  for  he  has  it  in  him  as 
well  as  Paddy,  and  he  is  making  rapid  strides  in  eloquence  of 
late  years,  but  Paddy  has  more  experience.  Everything  in 
Ireland  is  clone  with  a  speech  and  a  shout,  and  the  form  of 
government  the  island  is  blessed  with,  favours  the  cultivation  of 
my  art  extremely.  '  Esto  perpetua]  I  say," 

"  You  mean  the  castle  ?"  said  Winning. 

"  I  do,"  said  the  Professor.  "  It  may  have  its  faults,  but  it 
has  one  great  virtue,  it  gives  the  people  something  to  talk  at. 
The  Viceroy  is  a  target  for  the  practice  of  oratory.  If  a  man  has 
the  vein  of  panegyric,  he  has  got  something  to  address  and 
flatter;  if  he  is  up  to  a  philippic,  he  has  always  something  to 
abuse.  If  he  unites  both  gifts,  he  may  throw  flowers  at  his  Ex 
cellency  to-day,  and  fling  thunderbolts  at  him  to-morrow.  At 
the  very  worst,  the  Lord  Lieutenant  keeps  the  tongues  of  the 
doctors  and  professors  in  constant  exercise ;  for  it  is  the  duty  of 
the  king's  representative  to  stand  an  amount  of  lecturing,  a 
twentieth  part  of  which  would  make  his  majesty  himself  abdi 
cate  his  crown.  '  Esto perpetua?  say  I." 

I  am  disposed  to  say  so  too,"  said  Medlicott,  thoughtfully. 
"  A  form  of  government  which  promotes  eloquence  of  all  kinds 
so  powerfully  as  you  describe  cannot  be  anything  but  a  good 
one." 

"  The  Irish,  unfortunately,  are  not  so  partial  to  facts  as  to 
figures,"  said  Winning. 

"  There,"  said  Chatterton,  "  I  am  disposed  to  agree  with  them ; 
I  don't  think  facts  make  the  best  speeches;  facts  are  dry;  senti 
ments  do  better." 

"  I  suppose  your  Irish  pupils  live  very  much  together,"  asked 
Primrose. 

"The  men  who  are  talking  of  coming  into  the  house,"  said 
Chatterton,  "  chum  together  in  Panton  Square,  where  they 
practise  franking  at  breakfast,  paliamentary  elequence  at  dinner, 
and  have  quiet  little  evening  parties,  with  oysters,  punch,  Lalla 
Kookh,  and  Grattan's  speeches." 

"  They  have  capital  oysters  in  Ireland,"  said  De  Tabley. 

"  I  should  like  to  be  present  at  one  of  their  paliamentary 
dinners,"  said  Primrose. 

"  So  should  I  of  all  things,"  said  Mrs.  Mountjoy. 

"And  I  can  tell  you,  madam,"  said  the  Professor,  "you 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  209 

would  bo  a  very  welcome  guest ;  for  much  as  they  admire  the 
Peris  of  Paradise,  they  admire  the  Peris  of  this  life  more; — but 
the  great  fun  is  at  supper :  they  get  up  little  imaginary  squabbles 
and  rows  with  one  another,  to  accustom  themselves  to  coughing 
members  down,  and  calling  to  order." 

"  We  shall  see  droll  people  in  the  house  if  the  Emancipation 
Bill  passes,"  said  De  Tabley. 

"  As  long  as  there  are  droll  people  out  of  the  house,"  said 
Winning,  "there  will  be  droll  people  in  the  house,  and  there 
ought  to  be." 

"  I  own  I  long  to  see  Ireland,  and  even  Panton  Square,  fully 
and  fairly  represented,"  said  Primrose,  "  and  besides,  to  speak 
seriously,  the  best  way  I  know  to  put  an  extinguisher  upon  folly 
and  extravagance  of  all  kinds,  is  to  m|ike  a  constituency  of  it,  and 
give  it  a  member,  or  members,  in  the  TTjuse  of  Commons.  They 
may  be  bores,  to  be  sure,  and  do  a  great  deal  of  mischief  even 
there ;  but  depend  upon  it,  they  would  be  ten  times  as  trouble 
some  and  mischievous  at  the  Corn  Exchange,  or  the  Crown  and 
Anchor." 

Mr.  Medlicott,  who  had  always  sided  with  his  grandfather 
upon  the  catholic  question,  was  not  to  be  convinced  by  this 
reasoning;  but  Winning  coincided  with  Primrose,  and  was 
stating  the  grounds  of  his  opinion,  when  De  Tabley  again 
returned  to  the  subject  of  Irish  oysters,  and  changed  the  conver 
sation  in  good  time,  for  Mrs.  Mountjoy  disliked  politics ;  they 
puzzled  her,  and  women  don't  like  things  that  puzzle  them, 
except  conundrums  and  family  secrets. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  PROFESSOR'S  WIFE. 

A  FEW  days  later  Mr.  Primrose  was  walking  in  the  Strand, 
when  he  WHS  met  and  eagerly  accosted  by  Professor  CJhatterton, 
who  exclaimed — 

"  Why,  your  friend,  Mr.  Medlicott,  is  the  most  wonderful 
yuung  man  I  ever  met  with  in  all  my  professional  experience ; 
he  comes  to  my  lectuses  when  he  is  more  fit  to  lecture  himself. 
Talk  of  Irishmen — why,  there's  not  one  of  them  fit  to  hold  a 


210  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

candle  to  him  !  He's  a  perfect  orator,  sir,  this  m\taient ;  such 
fluency  I  never  heard  in  my  life :  such  beautiful  language,  and 
such  abundance  of  it.  By  the  merest  chance  I  made  the  dis 
covery  ;  I  had  no  notion  he  was  such  a  clever  fellow — he  never 
said  a  word  about  it." 

Primrose  said  it  surprised  him  that  Mr.  Chatterton's  sagacity 
had  not  sooner  detected  his  friend's  genius.  He  then  begged  to 
know  how  the  revelation  took  place. 

It  appeared  that  at  a  certain  stage  of  the  Professor's  course, 
it  was  the  custom  for  his  pupils  to  give  practical  proof  of  the 
progress  they  had  made  under  his  tuition,  by  rehearsing  some 
composition  of  their  own,  or  the  model  sermon  already  men 
tioned.  On  the  present  occasion  it  occurred  to  Mr.  Chatterton, 
to  try  what  his  disciples  could  do  at  an  extempore  discourse,  and 
Temperance  was  the  topiCy-fixed  on,  as  it  would  not  have  been 
reverent  to  discu:  s  a  religit»?;;ft>"til>ject.  Two  or  three  fair  attempts 
were  made  ;  the  majority  were  dull'  in  the  extreme  ;  some  broke 
down  after  the  first  sentence;  but  when  it  came  to  Reuben's 
turn  :  his  facility,  his  copiousness,  his  endless  variety  of  figures, 
im ages,  metaphors,  similes,  allegories,  illustrations,  and  quotations, 
astonished  everybody  present ;  until  at  length  they  cheered  him 
as  if  hi*  was  haranguing  at  Exeter  Hall,  the  elicct  of  which  was, 
that  he  quite  forgot  the  nature  of  the  occasion,  and  actually  held 
forth  so  long,  that  at  length,  said  the  Professor,  "  I  believe,  some 
of  the  gentlemen  present  thought  he  would  never  stop." 

"  You  were  lucky  that  he  did,"  said  Primrose. 

"  He  is  nothing  les  than  a  prodigy,"  said  the  Profe>sor.  He 
v:ill  either  be  a  bishop,  or  marry  a  duchess,  before  he  is  a  year 
in  the  Church." 

"  Or  purchase  a" chapel,  and  set  up  on  his  own  account,"  said 
ITaycinth. 

Twenty  voices,  at  least,  were  busy  at  the  same  moment  trum 
peting  in  different  parts  of  the  town  Mr.  Medlicott's  extraordinary 
display  in  Leicester-square.  It  takes,  however,  more  than  the 
breath  of  twenty  voices  to  make  what  is  called  fame.  Detraction 
was  of  course  very  busy  also.  Envy  began  to  nibble  at  his  repu 
tation,  when  it  was  yet  green,  by  way  of  earnest  of  what  she 
would  do  hereafter,  when  it  should  attain  its  full  growth.  Some 
of  the  men  who  applauded  him  at  the  lecture,  revenged  them 
selves  with  sneers  as  soon  as  it  was  over.  One  declared  the 
speech  was  all  verbiage  and  fustian  ;  another,  more  malignant, 
said  "  it  was  pretty  ;"  a  third  admitted  it  was  cleverish,  but  de- 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  211 

nied  that  it  was  clever.  Very  just  criticisms,  all  of  them,  most 
probably,  but  they  were  ot  on  that  account  the  less  narrow  and 
ill-natured. 

"  He  possesses  talent,"  said  Mr.  Araby,  the  sacred  poet,  in 
conversation  with  Primrose,  "  but  it's  a  talent  I  dont  envy." 

"  Nobody  envies  another's  talents,"  replied  Haycinth ;  "  the 
thing  we  envy  is  admiration,  popularity,  success.  We  envy  a 
man  his  fortune — not  his  genius,  and  still  less  his  virtues.  Virtue 
was  never  envied." 

"  Well,  I  confess  I  envy  his  facility,"  said  Winning,  who  spoke 
ably,  but  not  fluently  enough  to  satisfy  himself. 

Of  course  there  was  an  end  of  lectures  as  a  vehicle  of  in 
struction.  Reuben's  rhetorical  education  was  finished.  He  bore 
his  honours  meekly — he  wore  his  laurels  gracefully ;  if  he  tri 
umphed  it  was  in  private,  when  his  aunt  Mountjoy  prophesied  all 
human  glories  for  him ;  still  more  when  his  mother,  down  in 
Sussex,  echoed  the  praises  that  reached  her  from  London,  through 
her  sister's  letters  and  other  authentic  channels. 

Nothing  remained  but  to  attend  the  supplementary  lecture 
by  Madame  Chatterton.  '  Her  one  lecture  excited  more  curiosity 
than  the  whole  course  delivered  by  her  husband.  L^-iibeii  took 
tickets  for  himself,  his  aunt,  and  Primrose.  The  Professor  posi 
tively  refused  payment  for  them. 

The  lady  no  sooner  appeared  than  Reuben  felt  assured  he 
had  seen  her  before,  though  where  or  when  he  tried  in  vain  to 
recall.  She  was  very  little  French,  except  in  name ;  but  she  was 
very  handsome,  very  lively,  very  clever,  fluent,  and  exceedingly 
entertaining.  If  the  husband  was  convinced  that  the  most  im 
portant  qualifications  for  the  pulpit  were  histrionic,  the  wife  was 
no  less  under  the  firm  impression  that  they  were  more  of  a  cos 
metic  nature.  Chatterton  relied  on  action  and  passion  ;  Madame 
upon  kalydor  and  cambric.  She  dwelt  upon  the  beauty  of  the 
latter,  as  if  it  had  been  the  beauty  of  holiness  ;  mixing  up  the 
topics  of  Fenelon  and  fine  linen  with  so  much  practical  address,  that 
she  disposed  of  a  few  dozen  French  handkerchiefs,  at  half-a-guinea 
each,  before  she  concluded  her  observations.  Mi's.  Mountjoy 
bought  a  box  of  them,  embroidered  with  mitres,  cherubs,  and 
other  ecclesiastical  devices,  half  for  herself  and  half  for  Reuben. 
From  handkerchiefs  Madame  passed  to.  the  arrangement  of  the 
hair  with  a  view  to  devotional  effect,  and  began  by  lamenting 
that  this  was  so  little  attended  to  by  the  majority  of  the  clergy, 
and  by  some  of  them  held  almost  in  contempt.  Apropos  to 


212  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

that,  she  had  a  little  anecdote  to  relate.  She  would  not  mention 
names,  but  what  she  was  about  to  mention  had  actually  occurred 
within  her  own  experience,  and  would  prove  the  utter  indiffer 
ence  of  even  the  highest  dignitaries  of  the  Church  to  the  vital 
subject  of  coiffure.  Before  she  had  proceeded  a  sentence  further, 
Reuben  recognised  in  the  Frofessors's  wife  the  charming  young 
Frenchwoman  who  had  redressed  the  wrongs  which  he  had  sus 
tained  from  his  grandfather's  scissors,  the  night  before  he  went 
to  school.  That  incident  was  the  subject  of  her  anecdote.  After 
the  lecture,  he  hastened  to  renew  his  acquaintance  with  her,  and 
introduced  her  to  his  aunt,  who  thought  her  so  amiable,  as  well 
as  so  pretty  and  clever,  that  she  could  not  help  purchasing  sev 
eral  more  little  articles  on  her  earnest  recommendation;  one  of 
them  was  a  carved  ivory  box,  which,  to  Mrs.  Mountjoy's  horror, 
was  found,  upon  examination  in  the  evening,  to  contain  three 
teeth  of  a  Neapolitan  saint,  whose  very  name  she  had  never  be 
fore  heard.  This  was,  probably,  the  first  box  of  relies  introduced 
into  England,  in  consequence  of  the  stimulus  given  by  the  Trac- 
tarian  movement  to  that  important  branch  of  our  Italian  com 
merce. 

Previous  to  Mr.  Medlicott's  attendance  on  the  Ohatterton  lec 
tures,  his  chamber  had  been  pretty  well  furnished  with  looking- 
glasses,  as  well  as  with  most  other  objects  of  use,  ornament,  or 
luxury,  by  the  attention  of  his  fair  relative;  but  Reuben  now  felt 
the  want  of  a  mirror  of  the  largest  size,  and  did  not  hesitate  to 
intimate  to  his  aunt  how  much  he  desired  to  have  one  in  which 
he  could  see  himself  at  full  length,  when  he  practised  before  it. 
The  deficiency  was  no  sooner  mentioned  than  it  was  supplied.  A 
new  looking-glass,  reaching  from  the  floor  to  the  ceiling,  was 
immediately  purchased  and  put  up  ;  standing  before  which,  as  it 
were  in  a  pulpit,  and  recollecting  all  the  lessons  of  the  Professor, 
and  the  instructions  of  Madame,  Reuben  either  theatrically 
recited  some  discourse  he  had  committed  to  memory,  or  extem 
porised  a  sermon  of  his  own  from  his  exhaustless  treasury  of 
words  and  ready  fund  of  all  possible  embellishments  and  amplifi 
cations  of  di<-tioTi.  Many  a  time  did  the  curious  and  astonished 
Agatha  witness  uis  histrionic  exercises  through  the  keyhole  ;  and 
sometimes  the  good  landlady,  passing  the  door  on  tip-toe,  would 
pause,  attracted  by  the  volumes  of  sound,  and,  availing  herself  of 
the  same  convenient  little  orifice  to  gaze  at  the  haiidsome  young 
man,  declaiming  in  his  robe  of  black  velvet,  yield  herself  prema 
turely  to  the  captivations  of  pulpit  oratory. 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  213 


BOOK  THE  SIXTH. 


"  Eloquence,  like  the  fair  sex,  has  too  prevailing  beauties  in  it  to  suffer  itself  ever  to 
be  spoken  against  And  it  is  in  vain  to  find  fault  with  those  arts  of  deceiving  wherein 
nieu  find  pleasure  to  be  deceived." — Locke's  Essay  on  the  Haitian  Understanding. 

Socrates.  "What  if  I  bring  you  to  a  conference 

With  my  own  proper  goddesses,  the  Clouds  f 
S:repsia<les.  "'Tia  what  I  wish  devoutly." 

Artetophanet. 


ARGUMENT. 

A  GOODLY  catalogue  might  be  made  of  writers,  ancient  and  modern,  Greek 
and  Roman,  Italian,  Spanish,  English,  nay  even  among  the  gallant  French 
themselves,  who,  in  learned  treatises,  or  pleasant  composures — in  prose 
some,  and  in  rhyme  others — have  inveighed  against  womankind,  down 
from  the  fragile  Eve,  ^ur  general  mother,  to  the  lowliest  slave  of  the  mop 
and  broom  amongst  her  daughters ;  but  what  good  has  ever  come  of  con- 
tiuually  abusing  and  snubbing  the  female  race,  or  what  fruit  is  to  be  ex 
pected  from  it?  For  whether  it  be  true,  as  one  poet  expresses  it,  that 
they  are  to  be  reckoned  among  the  "  fair  defects  of  Nature,"  or  ranked 
with  her  most  exquisite  pieces  of  porcelain,  as  another  will  have  it,  they 
cannot  be  denied  to  form  one  of  the  great  estates  of  the  world  as  it  is, 
although  fancy  is  free,  of  course,  to  choose  any  star  in  the  firmament  and 
people  it 

"  With  men,  as  angels,  without  feminine." 

What  sort  of  a  place  to  live  in  such  a  planet  would  be,  this  is  not  the  place 
to  discuss ;  but  from  all  we  know  of  all  the  Utopias  hitherto  discovered, 
not  excepting  the  terrestrial  little  paradise  of  O'Oonnorville  itself,  we  have 
never  felt  a  strong  inclination  to  migrate  to  any  one  of  them,  and  it  is  very 
doubtful  if  a  world,  one  hundred  and  eighty  degrees  from  Venus,  would 
prove  more  attractive  than  the  rest.  To  look  at  woman  with  the  eye  of 
philosophy  is  not  easy,  but  if  you  can  manage  it,  you  must  see  at  once  that 
there  is  no  use  in  quarrelling  with  her,  any  more  than  with  any  other 
"  fait  accompli."  As  we  take  her  individually  from  the  hand  of  Sir  Priest, 
"fur  butter,  for  worse,"  as  the  rubric  phrases  it,  so  we  must  accept  th« 


214  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENI    S  j 

entire  sex,  and  accommodate  ourselves  to  our  lot  as  Socratically  aa  possi 
ble.  Nor  would  matters  be  quite  as  bad  as  they  are,  only  that  unfortu 
nately  the  female  element  in  the  world  is  not  confined  to  the  precise  limits 
of  the  fair  sex,  but  largely  intrudes  itself  into  the  masculine,  in  return  per 
haps  for  sundry  small  lo..ns  of  their  proper  attributes,  which  the  lords  of 
the  creation  occasionally  make  to  the  ladies,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Ama 
zons,  the  Blue-stockings,  and  the  Bloomers.  Some  writers  insist  that  each 
gender  is  the  better  for  a  lit  tie  alloy  of  the  other ;  that  a  touch  of  the  woman 
becomes  the  man,  while  a  little  of  the  man  improves  the  woman,  provided 
'tis  not  iV'-in  his  chin  the  little  is  borrowed.  Now,  if  we  inquire  for  which 
of  our  gifis  we  are  in  all  probability  most  indebted  to  Eve  and  her  daugh 
ters,  we  suspect  it  will  be  found  to  be  no  other  than  the  nimble  and  eager 
exercise  of  the  tongue,  which  appears  beyond  controversy  to  be  the 
womanly  parcel  of  us,  and  is,  possibly  for  that  reason,  so  proverbially  diffi 
cult  to  keep  in  order  and  subjtcliou.  The  tongue  is  essentially  of  the 
feminine  gender,  let  its  possessor  be  of  what  sex  he  may  ;  and  if  in  form 
it  is  serpentine,  in  motion  voluble,  and  in  its  employment  often  even  double 
and  venomous,  its  origin  is  only  more  clearly  to  be  traced  to  the  first 
beauty  that  charmed  and  the  first  rhetoric  that  seduced.  This  is  the  shrew 
that  everybody  is  more  or  less  cursed  with,  a  virago  in  every  man's 
mouth,  which  the  wisest  cannot  at  all  hours  tame  like  Petruchio.  Homer, 
not  less  philosopher  than  poet,  seems  to  have  considered  the  teeth  as  a 
rampart  or  line  of  circumvallations,  expressly  designed  by  provident 
Nature  to  check  the  sallies  of  this  termagant  spouse  of  ours.  And  the 
same  idea  seems  to  have  struck  our  own  Shakspearc — 

"  Within  my  mouth  you  have  engaoled  my  tongue, 
Doubly  portcullised  with  iny  teeth  and  lips." 

It  is  further  observable  that  Homer,  to  return  to  him,  when  his  wise 
Ulysses  speaks,  describes  his  voice  as  issuing  not  so  much  from  his  mouth, 
the  seat  of  the  tongue,  as  out  of  his  heart  or  mind — the  profounder  region 
of  thought  and  feeling.  It  is  a  sorry  tiling  when  the  tongue  is  vocal  and 
the  understanding  mute;  when  the  womanly  organ  is  the  only  part,  of  the 
macliiiHTy  in  full  work,  and  "loqi.tfix  magis  quain  facundun"  is  the  motto 
of  the  HJ'e.  Perhaps  we  are  to  blame  the  dentists  for  not  looking  better 
after  our  teelh,  which  cerlainlv  perform  but  indifferently,  in  many  cases, 
the  duty  assigned  them  by  Homer,  and  are  not  to  be  numbered  among  the 
defences  «'f  tin.'  nation.  Why,  do  we  not  see  men  in  our  own  days,  as  there 
were  in  Mr.  Modlicott's.  whose  tongues  scarce  a  triple  row  of  elephants' 
tusks  could  ert'i-ctually  blockade,  though  kept  in  the  best  repair  by  all  the 
art  of  dental  surgery  ? — 

"  Men  who  at  any  time  would  hang 
For  th'  opportunity  t'  harangue : 
And  still  their  tongues  run  on  the  less 
Of  weight  they  bear,  with  greater  ease, 
And  with  their  everlasting  clack 
Set  all  men's  ears  upon  the  rack, 
With  volleys  of  eternal  babble, 
And  clamour  most  unanswerable." 

Such  men,  methinks,  are  as  justly  to  be  held  women,  by  reason  of  Iliiii 
vicious  excess  of  the  female  quality  in  them,  as  the  king  of  Dahomey'* 


OK,  THE   COMING    MAX.  216 

regiments  of  guardswomen  are  to  be  counted  men,  not  withstanding  the 
want  of  whiskers  and  boards.  What  coi reefer  judgment,  indeed,  can  we 
pronounce  upon  the  remorseless  race  of  talkers  and  speech-makers,  this 
"thundering  legion"  by  which  the  n.ition  is  overrun,  who  are  rapidly  be 
coming  a  distinct  function  and  profession  in  the  state,  overpowwnag  common 
sense,  as  Niagara  drowns  all  ordinary  voices,  and  threatening  with  ruin 
the  public  interests,  especially  the  dignity  and  efficiency  of  parliament — 
•what  can  we  say  of  them  more  correctly  than  that  they  are  all  tongue,  just 
as  a  glutton  is  all  stomach  ;  or  as  Milton  describes  the  unfaithful  .shepherds 
of  the  Church,  as  mere  "mouths," — a  word  which  would  serve  our  turn  as 
well,  did  we  need  it 


CHAPTER  L 

A  GLIMPSE  OF   GLORY. 

A  BATJRKL  of  gunpowder  is  as  quiet  as  a  barrel  of  oysters  until 
a  sp;irk  touches  it ;  then  it  explodes,  aifcl  blows  the  house  out  of 
the  windows.  While  Reuben  Medlicott  was  practising  and  a<*- 
complishing  himself  in  the  art  of  rhetoric  in  Burlington  Gardens, 
expecting  nothing  less  than  an  early  opportunity  for  displaying 
his  proficiency  in  it,  a  political  movement  was  going  on  in  Sussex, 
which  no  sooner  reached  his  ears  than  it  set  his  ambition  on  fire, 
and  turned  ever}  tiling  topsy-turvy. 

A  public  meeting  was  on  the  point  of  being  held  at  Chiches- 
ter,  in  defence  of  the  Protestant  interest,  which  at  that  time  was 
supposed  to  be  in  a  very  delicate  and  critical  situation.  At  this 
meeting,  when  the  news  of  it  reached  him,  Mr.  Medlicott,  flushed 
with  his  recent  honours  in  Leicester-square,  determined  to  mak« 
his  first  experiment  in  public  speaking.  The  opportunity  seemed 
singularly  favourable  :  the  place  was  benign,  the  subject  was  pro- 
p'tious:  hundreds  of  familiar  faces  would  surround  him  on  the 
platform.  He  anticipated  and  dutifully  sympathised  in  his  moth 
er's  raptures :  even  his  grandfather  himself  would  at  least  approve 
his  zeal. 

Was  the  Dean's  approbation  so  very  certain  ?  Winning  and 
Primrose  no  sooner  heard  of  their  friend's  design,  than  they  took 
a  widely  different  view  of  the  matter.  They  thought  Reuben's 
intention  to  take  an  .active  part  in  the  proposed  meeting  the 
height  of  imprudence  ;  and  we  must  be  excused  for  devoting  a 
few  words  to  account  for  their  being  so  decidedly  of  this  opinion. 


?16  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

It  was  the  period  when  a  cabinet,  which  had  hitherto  ranged 
itself  in  determined  resistance  to  the  claims  of  the  Roman  Cath 
olics,  was  understood  to  be  wavering  upon  that  long  agitated 
point.  Rumours  were  abroad  that  great  concessions  were  on  the 
eve  of  being  made,  though  whether  to  reason  or  to  clamour 
opinions  were  divided.  There  were  many  whispers  also  afloat 
affecting  individuals.  Some  of  the  most  eminent  men  in  the  na 
tion,  particularly  in  the  Church,  were  beginning  to  be  hinted  at 
in  the  public  journals,  as  being  only  too  ready  to  wheel  about 
with  the  government,  not  of  course  without  weighty  considera 
tions,  proportioned  to  the  risks  and  sacrifices  attendant  upon  all 
such  evolutions,  Among  those  who  were  most  pointedly  alluded 
to  in  tin?  unpleasant  way  was  the  grandfather  of  our  hero — for 
we  may  call  him  a  hero  with  some  propriety,  now  that  the  Pro 
testant  interest  at  Chich ester  is  about  to  claim  and  use  him  as  its 
champion.  For  severa)  years,  as  we  have  had  occasion  already 
to  state,  Dean  Wyndham's  elevation  to  the  bench  had  been  spo 
ken  of  as  a  probable  event,  not  only  on  account  of  his  learning 
and  talents,  but  his  strenuous  employment  of  them  in  support  of 
the  policy  of  the  government.  Latterly,  however,  his  friends 
had  begun  to  despair  of  his  promotion  ;  and  the  unmitigated  vio 
lence  of  his  writings  and  sermons  seemed  to  be  rapidly  dimin 
ishing  his  chances  with  a  ministry  which  was  growing  milder  and 
more  tolerant  every  day.  But  now  it  was  confidently  stated  that 
the  Dean  had  caught  the  popular  infection  like  others,  and  that 
the  mitre,  which  had  been  denied  him  as  the  preacher  of  exclu 
sion,  was  immediately  to  reward  his  conversion  to  the  doctrines 
of  liberality.  Ail  this  was  still  mere  rumour,  but  it  was  a  ru 
mour  that  was  gaining  ground  ;  and  whatever  men  like  Winning 
might  privately  think  of  the  purity  of  the  Dean's  conduct  as  a 
public  man  (should  he  have  really  made  up  his  mind  to  put  on 
(i  new  suit  of  doctrines  and  principles  in  his  old  age),  they  were 
not  the  less  clearly  of  opinion  that  Reuben  Medlicott  (on  the  eve 
of  entering  the  Church)  could  not  possibly  choose  a  more  unfortu 
nate  moment  for  the  public  display  which  he  was  now  meditating. 

Reuben,  however,  was  most  indignant  at  the  imputations  upon 
his  grandfather,  which  the  remonstrances  of  his  friends  assumed 
to  be  well  founded.  He  had  been  brought  up  from  the  cradle 
in  extreme  veneration  for  the  Dean ;  and  as  he  advanced  in  years 
this  feeling  had  increased  in  proportion  to  his  capability  of  esti 
mating  his  grandfather's  talents  and  erudition  :  a  doubt  as  to  his- 
sincerity  upon  any  point  (much  less  upon  the  great  question  to 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  217 

* 

which  he  had  for  years  chiefly  devoted  his  powers  as  a  conversa 
tionalist)  had  never  crossed  his  mind,  except  as  a  profane  idea 
which  it  was  sinful  for  a  moment  to  harbour.  In  short,  had  Doc 
tor  Wyndham  been  a  man  as  well  qualified  to  command  his 
grandson's  love  as  he  was  to  excite  his  admiration,  Reuben  would 
have  regarded  him  with  an  enthusiasm  little  short  of  what  an 
other  Luther  might  have  inspired.  To  Luther,  indeed,  his  mother 
and  he  had  frequently  exercised  and  pleased  themselves  by  com 
paring  their  distinguished  relative.  It  will  easily  be  believed  that 
no  alalogy  with  Melancthon  was  very  likely  to  suggest  itself  to 
the  most  partial  of  the  Dean's  friends. 

Reuben  had  never  forgotten  that  glorious  sermon,  with  which 
he  had  heard  the  Cathedral  of  Hereford,  nave  and  choir,  resound ; 
_the  thunders  of  which  had  scared  the  rooks  from  their  settlements 
in  the  square  tower,  and  frighted  from  their  propriety  the  neigh 
bouring  closes.  That  those  eloquent  denunciations  of  the  vile 
doctrine  of  expediency,  which  had  thrilled  him  when  a  schoolboy, 
were  nothing  but  sound  and  vapour,  he  was  not  prepared  to  ad 
mit.  He  was  determined  to  believe  that  there  wa»  still  such  a 
thing  as  principle  in  the  world  ;  or  at  least  that  among  the  apos 
tates  from  it,  the  name  of  Wyndham  would  not  be  found. 

"  Well,"  said  Primrose,  at  length,  after  a  great  deal  of  una 
vailing  remonstrance,  "don't  make  enemies  for  yourself  among 
the  bishops,  at  all  events:  avoid  personal  allusions.  Though  it 
is  whispered  that  one  or  two  of  the  right  reverend  bench  are 
about  to  veer  with  the  wind  from  Downing-street,  you  are  under 
no  necessity  of  adverting  to  them,  or  to  anybody  else  about 
whom  similar  reports  are  current." 

"On  the  contrary,"  said  Reuben,  ostentatiously,  "my  inten 
tion  is  to  paint  the  character  of  an  apostate  Churchman  in  the 
most  glowing  colours :  in  fact,  this  will  be  absolutely  necessary 
for  the  effect  of  my  speech." 

"Totally  irrelevant,  however,"  said  Winning,  calmly;  "but 
that,  I  know,  was  considered  a  slight  objection  in  the  debates  of 
our  society  at  Cambridge.  Besides,  what  right  have  you  to  set 
up  yourself  as  the  judge  of  any  man's  sincerity,  or  the  impugner 
of  any  man's  motives  f ' 

"Will  you  allow  Winning,  or  me,  to  see  what  you  have  pre 
pared  ?"  asked  Primrose. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Reuben. 

He  redeemed  his  pledge  in  a  few  days. 

The  character  of  the  apostate  Churchman  was  the  portrait  of 
10 


218  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

his  grandfather,  in  everything  bun1  the  details  and  personal  fea 
tures.  His  friends  looked  at  one  another  in  amazement;  then 
pressed  on  him,  as  strongly  as  they  could,  that  should  the  rumours 
of  the  Dean's  change  of  opinions  have  any  foundation  in  fact, 
the  delivery  of  such  a  passage  by  his  grandson  could  hardly  fail 
to  lead  to  an  irreparable  breach  between  them. 

"  But  my  grandfather  is  not  about  to  apostatise — for  it  conies 
to  that,"  replied  Reuben,  with  confidence  and  displeasure ;  "  so 
that  your  premises  fall  to  the  ground,  and  your  conclusion  tum 
bles  along  with  them." 

Winning  perceived  that  argument  was  useless,  and  left  the 
room  before  he  lost  his  temper. 

De  Tabley  came  in  almost  the  next  instant.  Primrose  asked 
him  what  news  he  had ;  for  De  Tabley,  through  his  uncle,  who 
was  in  parliament,  and  closely  connected  with  a  member  of  the 
ministry,  had  often  pretty  good  information  of  what  was  going 
on  behind  the  scenes. 

"  Nothing  talked  of  but  desertions,"  he  answered  ;  "  we  shall 
witness  startling  events  before  a  week  is  over.  Medlicott  will  be 
more  astounded  than  any  of  us  by  some  of  them." 

"  You  hear,"  said  Hyacinth  to  Reuben.  "  Depend  upon  it 
you  will  commit  a  monstrous  imprudence  if  you  persevere." 

"  Lay  it  hard  on  the  bishops,"  said  De  Tabley,  "-#s  hard  as 
you  please ;  but  take  my  advice,  and  do^'t  meddle  with  the 
deans  !" 

Primrose  and  Winning  now  made  another  effort.  They 
went  together  to  his  aunt,  and  after  explaining  to  her  the  views 
they  entertained  of  the  step  which  her  nephew  was  about  to  take, 
they  strongly  advised  her  to  exert  her  influence  with  him,  and 
dissuade  him  from  doing  what  might  possibly  end  in  blasting  his 
prospects  for  life.  Poor  Mrs.  Mountjoy  was  greatly  distressed  and 
excited  ;  she  felt  very  little  disposed  to  credit  any  of  the  reports 
that  were  going  about  her  father's  promotion,  but  she  had  already 
some  vague  notion  that  Reuben  was  about  to  do  an  unwise 
thing,  in  attending  a  political  meeting  of  any  kind,  and  she  pro 
mised  to  do  all  in  her  power  to  bring  him  to  reason. 

Reuben  was  seated  in  one  of  his  luxurious  chairs,  arrayed  in 
his  velvet  robe-de-chambre  and  slippers,  with  his  speech  before 
him,  to  which  he  proposed  to  put  some  new  touches  before  din 
ner  (he  was  engaged  that  day  to  dine  with  Master  Turner),  when 
he  heard  a  little  timid  tap  at  the  door  of  his  chamber. 

It  was  his  aunt's  maid,  to  say  that  her  mistress  wished  par- 


OB,  1HE   COMING   MAN.  219 

ticularly  to  see  him,  if  a  visit  from  her  would  not  be  very  incon 
venient.  The  girl  gazed  almost  idolatrously  on  Reuben ;  and 
no  wonder,  for,  in  his  gorgeous  gown,  there  was  scarcely  any 
dignity  so  high,  that  he  might  not  well  be  supposed  invested 
with  it. 

"  Shall  I  go  to  her  ?"  he  inquired. 

"  She  will  come  to  you,  sir,"  said  Agatha,  with  profound  de 
ference  :  and  presently  in  came  the  portly,  beautiful,  and  amiable 
widow. 

Reuben  would  have  been  very  hard-hearted  not  to  have  been 
moved  by  the  sweetness  and  earnestness  with  which  his  aunt  re 
peated  and  reinforced  the  advice  and  remonstrances  which  his 
friends  had  in  vain  urged.  But  Reuben  Medlicott  was  so  far 
from  having  a  hard  heart,  that,  on  the  contrary,  the  softness  and 
warmth  of  his  nature  made  him,  all  through  life,  only  too  sus 
ceptible  of  the  sort  of  influence  which  was  now  brought  to  bear 
upon  liim.  The  end  of  the  interview  was,  that  though  he  con 
tinued  to  treat  the  apprehensions  of  his  aunt  as  utterly  ground 
less,  and  little  less  than  a  libel  on  her  own  father,  and  though  his 
frankness  kept  him  from  concealing  the  extent  of-  the  sacrifice  he 
was  called  on  to  make,  he  nevertheless  assured  his  fair  relative 
that  he  was  prepared  to  make  it,  if  it  was  necessary  to  set  her 
mind  at  ease. 

Mrs.  Mountjoy  was  now  as  overflowing  with  thanks,  as  if  she 
had  been  petitioning  for  some  mighty  favour  for  herself,  instead  of 
merely  deprecating  an  act  of  excessive  imprudence  on  his  part. 
Gazing  admiringly  on  the  manuscript  which  she  recognized  on 
th°,  table,  then  tenderly  taking  it  up,  and  turning  over  the  pages 
with  a  mingled  expression  of  curiosity  and  regret,  she  hoped  he 
would  permit  her  to  read  it.  He  could  not  deny  the  request,  but 
assented  with  a  sigh,  which  did  not  escape  her  ear,  touchingly 
intimating,  at  the  same  time,  that  the  speech  was  made  to  be 
spoken,  not  to  be  read. 

The  sigh  of  the  young  orator  explained  this  distinction  in 
finitely  better  to  the  fair  widow's  apprehension,  than  a  long  lec 
ture  on  eloquence  could  have  done.  It  made  her  more  thorough 
ly  sensible  of  the  extent  to  which  Reuben  was  sacrificing  his  own 
gloir  to  her  gratification,  than  if  she  had  studied  the  treatise 
"  De  Claris  Oratoribus."  Such,  indeed,  was  the  effect  of  that 
sigh  upon  her,  that  it  is  possible  the  interview  might  have  ended 
in  Mrs.  Mountjoy  changing  her  mind  altogether,  and  even  im 
ploring  her  nephew  to  do  what  she  had  just  so  earnestly  dissuad- 


220  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  , 

ed  him  from  doing,  had  not  her  maid  opportunely  tapped  at  the 
door,  to  remind  her  that  it  was  time  to  dress  for  dinner,  and  also 
to  hand  Mr.  Medlicott  a  letter  which  had  just  been  delivered  by 
the  postman. 

"  I'll  leave  you  to  read  it,  my  dear,"  said  his  aum\  as  she  ran 
away. 

That  letter  could  not  possibly  have  come  at  a  more  unlucky 
moment.  It  was  from  his  mother,  to  acquaint  him  with  the  ar 
rangements  that  had  been  made  for  the  meeting  at  Chichester, 
and  the  intense  excitement  that  prevailed  in  the  neighbourhood 
about  it,  of  which  no  small  part,  according  to  Mrs.  Medlicott,  was 
owing  to  Reuben's  expected  participation  in  its  proceedings. 
Several  bishops,  whom  she  mentioned,  had  expressed  their  anxie 
ty  that  the  day  should  go  off  well.  Flocks  of  clergymen  were 
to  attend  it  Everybody  deplored  his  dear  grandfather's  absence  ; 
but  perhaps  it  was  reserved  for  somebody,  who  was  still  dearer  to 
her,  to  supply,  and  more  than  supply,  the  place  which  the  Dean 
had  been  wont  to  fill  so  ably  upon  occasions  of  this  nature. 
Such  an  opportunity  for  a  young  man  to  cover  himself  with -glo 
ry  might  not  occur  again  for  a  ages.  The  maternal  solicitude 
about  his  preparations  and  his  success,  were  visible  even  in  the 
tremulousness  of  the  handwriting.  The  letter  was  crossed  and 
recrossed,  yet,  after  all,  the  most  urgent  part  of  it  was  contained 
in  the  last  of  three  postscripts,  where  his  mother  informed  him 
that  the  committee  to  conduct  the  meeting  was  to  dine  at  the  Vi 
carage  on  the  day  preceding  it,  and  his  father  was  anxious  to 
have  his  son's  assistance  to  entertain  them.  The  Earl  of  Stromness, 
she  added,  had  sent  a  haunch  of  venison  for  the  occasion,  an  earnest 
of  the  interest  taken  by  him  in  the  approaching  demonstration. 

Reuben  had  not  been  so  agitated  by  a  letter  since  the  painful 
communications  he  had  once  received,  when  a  schoolboy,  from 
Mrs.  Barsac  and  her  daughter.  He  paced  his  chamber  in  a  su 
perb  state  of  excitement,  rendered  still  more  tragic  by  his  pomp 
ous  dishabille,  which  swept  the  ground  behind  him  like  the  robe 
of  a  heroine  on  the  stage,  or  a  lady's  train  at  a  drawing-room. 
He  now  felt  that  he  had  entered  into  an  inconsiderate,  and  even 
improper  engagement  with  his  aunt ;  he  had  made  a  vow  as  rash 
as  Jephtha's,  not  sufficiently  weighing  either  the  bitter  disap 
pointment  his  absence  would  occasion  to  his  piother,  or  the  mis 
chiefs  which  might  possibly  result  from  deranging,  at  the  eleventh 
hour,  the  arrangements  for  a  great  county  meeting.  In  all  prob 
ability  it  also  crossed  his  mind,  as  he  traversed  his  room,  that  the 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  221 

Protestant  interest  itself  might  suffer  some  slight  rtjury  ;  for  as 
the  meeting  was  considered  absolutely  necessary  for  its  support, 
even  the  least  significant  personage  attending  it  must  needs  con 
tribute  something  to  its  success  and  efficiency.  What  was  the 
public  voice,  when  it  roared  loudest,  but  the  aggregate  of  the 
voices  of  individuals  ?  Even  those  who  only  cheered  and  shout 
ed  were  not  altogether  useless. 

Then  as  to  his  grandfather's  imputed  change  of  views — the 
only  argument  his  friends  in  London  had  to  stand  on — was  not 
the  letter  in  his  hand  a  triumphant  answer  to  it?  All  Sussex 
was  deploring  the  Dean's  absence  from  a  demonstration  so  con 
genial  to  his  principles.  "Offended  at  my  speaking  on  such  an 
occasion  !"  cried  Reuben,  at  the  end  of  the  soliloquy  ;  "  he  is  a 
thousand  times  more  likely  to  bellow  like  a  bull,  if  I  desert  my 
post,  especially  were  he  to  suspect  the  reason." 

He  dressed  with  feverish  precipitation,  and,  with  his  mother's 
letter  in  his  hand,  went  in  search  of  Mrs.  Mountjoy. 


CHAPTER  IL 

THOUGHTS   THAT   BliEATHE   AND   WORDS   THAT  BURN1. 

IT  was  no  very  difficult  achievement.  Mrs.  Mountjoy  released 
her  nephew  from  his  promise  much  more  readily  than  she  had 
prevailed  on  herself  to  extort  it  from  him.  She  was  a  woman 
who  had  the  humblest  opinion  of  her  own  judgment,  especially 
in  comparison  with  her  sister,  whom  she  habitually  regarded  as 
a  very  superior  person  to  herself;  and,  moreover,  being  of  that 
more  amiable  than  numerous  order  of  beings  to  whom  it  is  al 
ways  extremely  painful  to  allow  their  own  gratification,  or  their 
own  opinions  and  wishes,  to  interfere  with  the  gratification  of 
others  for  one  moment,  she  felt  it  utterly  impossible  to  oppose 
her  nephew  any  longer,  when  she  found  herself  so  decidedly  in 
opposition  to  his  mother  also. 

The  fact  that  the  meeting  was  under  the  patronage  of  so 
many  of  the  clergy,  and  even  of  several  bishops,  was  not  with 
out  its  effect  likewise.  All  Mrs.  Mountjoy  begged  now  was,  that 
Reuben  would  in  his  speech  avoid  everything  calculated  to  give 
offence  to  individuals,  and  make  enemies  for  himself.  Subject  to 


222  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

this  little  stipulation,  she  consented  to  his  leaving  her  fie  very 
next  morning,  which,  indeed,  was  necessary,  to  enable  him  to  be 
at  home  in  time  for  the  dinner  to  be  given  to  the  Committee.  As 
Reuben  dined  out,  he  took  leave  of  his  aunt  then,  promising  to 
send  her  a  newspaper  with  the  best  report  of  his  speech,  and  to 
return  soon  after  the  meeting  and  finish  his  visit.  He  dined,  as 
we  have  said,  with  Master  Turner,  who  amused  him  by  repeating 
in  the  course  of  the  evening,  "The  Chancellor  told  me,  that  the 
best  sermon  he  ever  heard  in  his  life,  was  one  which  he  heard 
your  father  preach  in  a  little  country-church  near  Chichester." 

Mrs.  Mountjoy  dined  alone,  and  thought  she  was  doomed  to 
pass  the  entire  evening  in  solitude,  which  was  not  to  her  an  agree 
able  prospect,  when,  to  her  great  delight  and  surprise,  while  she 
sat  at  tea,  who  should  arrive  but  Mrs.  Wyndham  ?  She  had 
come  from  Boulogne  that  morning,  had  dined  at  Portland-place, 
and  could  not  let  the  evening  close  "  without  paying  her  daugh 
ter  a  visit."  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  on  her  part,  was  equally  charmed 
to  receive  her  fair  young  step-mother.  This  relationship  was  al 
ways  a  cause  of  pleasantry,  though  really  Mrs.  Mountjoy  looked 
very  little  senior  to  Mrs.  Wyndham. 

Mrs.  Wyndham  had  left  the  Dean  behind  her  ;  perfectly  well, 
but  in  a  state  of  feverish  excitement,  owing  to  affairs  in  England, 
and,  as  his  wife  said,  receiving  letters  and  despatches  every  hour 
from  members  of  parliament,  ministers  and  public  men  in  every 
situation.  As  to  anything  that  might  be  in  agitation  affecting 
Lis  personal  interests,  Mrs.  Wyndham  was  very  little  better  in 
formed  than  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  the  Dean  had  been  of  late  so  ex 
tremely  reserved  about  politics  and  about  himself;  but  it  was 
impossible  not  to  believe  that  something  very  extraordinary  would 
happen  before  long. 

Mrs.  Mountjoy  inquired  whether  he  had  been  lately  corres 
ponding  with  her  sister,  Mrs.  Medlicott,  or  her  husband  ? 

"  He  had  a  letter  from  Mr.  Medlicott,"  said  Mrs.  Wyndham, 
"  and  I  think  it  annoyed  him  more  than  any  other  communica 
tion  he  lias  had  from  home ;  he  is  excessively  angry  about  some 
meeting  or  other  they  are  going  to  hold  at  Chichester." 

"  You  don't  tell  me  so  !"  cried  poor  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  starting 
from  her  chair  with  an  emotion  that  made  Mrs.  Wyndham  start 
likewise, 

Mrs.  Mountjoy  then  related  everything  that  had  occurred  re 
lating  to  the  meeting. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  Mrs.  Mountjoy,"  said  Mrs.  Wyndham,  "  why 


OB,  THE   COMING   MAN.  223 

were  you  not  more  confident  in  your  own  judgment,  you  judged 
so  very  correctly ;  it  would  absolutely  ruin  that  dear  clever 
nephew  of  yours  in  my  husband's  favour,  if  he  were  to  take  any 
part,  much  more  a  prominent  one,  in  this  Chiehester  meeting." 

Mrs.  Mouutjoy  was  unable  to  speak,  she  was  so  distressed 
and  excited. 

"  And  just  now  it  would  be  so  particularly  unfortunate," 
added  Mrs.  Wyndham,  with  still  more  earnestness,  "  when  no- 
bod  v  ki  ows  what  a  day  may  bring  forth — how  soon  the  Dean 
may  have  it  in  his  power  to  be  of  the  greatest  service  to  Reuben 
in  his  profession.  Can  nothing  be  done  to  prevent  him  from 
taking  so  very  indiscreet  a  step  3" 

"Reuben  dines  out;  he  will  not  be  at  home  until  a  late  hour, 
and  early  to-morrow  morning  he  has  arranged  to  start  for 
Chicheste"r." 

"  You  must  either  see  him  again  before  he  goes,"  said  Mrs. 
Wyndham,  "or  write  him  a  very,  very  strong  letter." 

"One  thing  certainly  might  be  done,"  said  Mrs.  Mountjoy, 
but  she  paused  and  immediately  added,  that  it  was  too  strong  a 
measure  for  her  to  take. 

Mrs.  Wyndham  insisted  upon  hearing  what  her  idea  was. 

"His  speech  is  lying  in  his  room,"  replied  Mrs.  Mountjoy, 
laughing  at  herself  for  the  absurd  thought  that  had  come  into 
her  head;  "it  just  occurred  to  me  to  carry  it  off  and  burn  it  or 
hide  it."  ' 

"  Well,  but  that  is  a  rrfost  capital  notion,"  said  Mrs.  Wynd 
ham,  jumping  up  with  the  greatest  animation,  "let  us  go,  my 
dear  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  and  put  it  into  immediate  execution.  I  am 
for  burning  the  speech  :  I  am  against  half  measures." 

"  It  will  answer  every  purpose  to  lock  it  up,'lsaid  the  widow. 

"  Let  us  go  to  his  room,  at  all  events." 

They  went  up  together  to  Reuben's  apartment.  Blanche 
was  not  a  little  amused  by  the  minute  daintiness  of  the  arrange 
ments,  which  his  solicitous  and  bountiful  aunt  had  made  for  Reu 
ben's  accommodation.  She  was  near  forgetting  the  business  in 
hand,  in  her  admiration  of  the  velvet  dressing-gown  and  slippers 
especially. 

"I  see  how  it  is,"  she  said,  laughing;  "you  do  every  thing 
to  spoil  your  nephew  :  no  wonder  you  find  him  so  perverse  and 
unmanageable; — you  are  quite  as  bad  as  any  mother." 

"Perhaps  you  will  be  a  mother  yourself,  my  dear,  one  of 
these  days,"  said  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  parrying  the  attack,  in  a  laugh- 
in  ir  whisper. 


224  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

u  Ah,  no !"  said  Blanche,  with  a  sigh  that  was  not  very  sor 
rowful  ;  "  I  shall-never  be  more  than  a  grandmother  and  a  step 
mother,  but  that's  dignity  enough,  I  think,  for  a  little  woman 
like  me." 

The  speech  was  lying  just  where  Mrs.  Mountjoy  had  seen  it 
a  few  hours  earlier  in  the  evening;  but  now,  when  she  took  it 
up,  she  handled  it  even  more  lovingly  than  bofi.re;  and  again 
she  repeated  that  there  could  be  no  advantage  in  destroying  the 
papers — she  would  carry  them  away  to  her  own  bed-chamber, 
and  hide  them  on  some  high  shelf,  or  in  some  inaccessible  nook 
or  corner.  Mrs.  Wyndham  was  curious  to  look  over  the  speech. 
Mrs.  Mountjoy  placed  it  in  her  hands,  and  just  at  the  same  mo 
ment  Agatha  came  in,  with" a  great  fuss,  to  get  some  directions 
about  Mr.  Reuben's  linen,  as  he  was  to  leave  town  in  the  morn 
ing.  Mrs.  Mountjoy  went  with  the  maid  into  her  nephew's 
dressing-room  to  settle  this  little  business,  which  did  not  occupy 
five  minutes.  When  she  returned  to  where  she  had  left  Mrs. 
Wyndham,  she  found  that  resolute  young  lady  standing  near  the 
fire,  contemplating  with  firmness,  though  not,  perhaps,  without 
souio  little  misgiving  and  scruples  of  conscience,  the  burning  elo 
quence  of  Reuben  Medlicott. 

The  affrighted  widow  knew  at  a  glance,  only  too  well,  what 
it  was  that  was  curling  and  twisting  in  the  flames,  as  if  the  pa 
per-  themselves  actually  felt  the  pangs  of  martyrdom.  Passion 
ately  clasping  her  hands,  and  regarding  Mrs.  Wyndham  with 
looks  which  expressed  at  once  astonish rnent,  sorrow,  and  reproach, 
she  uttered  a  series  of  the  most  piteous  exclamations,  ending  with 
bitterly  upbraiding  herself  for  having  been  the  first  to  suggest  so 
barbarous  a  proceeding. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Mountjoy,"  said  Blanche,  with  the  agitated 
manner  of  a  woman  who,  having  done  an  energetic  thing,  is  in 
clined  to  fear  she  has  been  too  vigorous,  "  it  would  never  have 
done  for  you  to  have  merely  carried  it  off;  your  nephew  would 
infallibly  have  got  it  from  you." 

Mrs.  Mountjoy  made  no  reply,  but  stood  with  her  eyes  riveted 
upon  the  burning  papers,  while  over  and  over  again  her  friend 
repeated,  that  what  she  had  done  she  had  done  for  the  best,  and 
she  was  confident  Reuben  himself  would  one  day  thank  her  for 
it.  At  length  the  flames  devoured  the  last  of  their  prey,  and 
the  two  fair  dames  went  down  together,  both  a  little  more  com 
posed  ;  Mi's.  Mountjoy  telling  her  friend  that  she  could  only  re 
gard  her  in  the  light  of  an  executioner,  and  Mrs.  Wyndham  de- 


OR,  THE  COMtN  fi    MAN.  225 

fending  herse.f,  by -declaring  in  more  explicit  terms  th&n  she  had 
used  before,  that  she  had  a  presentiment  of  a  bishopric,  and  was 
bent  upon  having  Reuben  for  her  domestic  chaplain. 


CHAPTER  HI. 

THE   APOSTAOY. 

THE  events  of  the  few  succeeding  days  put  Reuben  Medlicott,  his 
oratory,  prospects,  and  all  about  him,  quite  out  of  remembrance, 
at  least  in  the  thoughts  of  his  London  friends.  They  had  some 
thing-  far  more  exciting  to  think  of,  for  rumour  had  told  a  true 
story,  and  Dean  Wyndham  returned  from  Boulogne,  to  give  his 
adhesion  to  the  Government,  and  receive  the  mitre,  as  the  recom 
pense  of  his  sudden  and  suspicious  adoption  of  a  new  set  of  polit 
ical  opinions.  The  career  of  this  eccentric  dignitary  reminded 
the  public  of  those  hurricanes  which  occur  in  the  Caribbean  Seas, 
where  the  gale  will  often  begin  from  the  north  or  the  south  ; 
then  suddenly  chop  round,  and  blow  with  equal  determination 
from  the  opposite  point  of  the  compass.  And  from  the  history 
of  the  same  tempests  might  have  been  likewise  borrowed  an  apt 
illustration  of  some  of  the  effects  of  the  Dean's  conversion  ;  for  as 
it  is  found  that  the  trees  upon  one  side  of  an  island,  subjected  to 
one  of  those  abrupt  and  fierce  visitations,  are  commonly  blown 
down  in  one  direction,  while  the  trees  on  the  opposite  side  are 
found  prostrated  in  the  reverse  one,  in  like  manner,  before  Dr. 
Wyndham's  former  opponents  had  ceased  to  reel  beneath  the 
tremendous  buffets  which  he  had  dealt  them  in  the  pulpit  and 
the  press,  his  new  antagonists  were  already  staggering  under  the 
equally  formidable  blows  which  it  was  now  their  turn  to  receive. 
The  event  affected  people  variously,  according  to  their  polit 
ical  views,  their  notions  of  public  morality,  their  private  interests, 
or  their  previous  estimate  of  the  Dean's  probity.  Those  who 
were  least  surprised  at  his  tergiversation  were  those  who  best 
knew  him.  Those  who  affected  to  be  most  indignant  at  his, per 
fidy  were  those  who  would  have  been  most  ready  themselves  to 
receive  a  political  traitor  with  open  arms.  He  was  loudly  reviled 
for  his  hypocrisy,  by  men  who  never  had  better  reason  than  his 
violence  for  believing  him  sincere  while  on  the  other  hand  he 
10* 


226  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ] 

was  now  extolled  for  sincerity  by  many  of  his  new  associates, 
who  had  no  other  grounds  for  their  opinion  than  his  present  ad 
herence  to  their  ow'n  standard.  Many  blushed  for  his  infidelity 
to  his  party,  but  many  more  envied  him  for  the  prize  he  won  by 
it.  Some  were  ashamed  of  human  nature ;  some  were  disposed 
to  disbelieve  in  the  existence  of  truth  and  virtue ;  some  pro 
claimed  that  religion  itself  had  received  a  mortal  blow.  There 
were  persons  who  never  would  have  thought  it,  and  there  were 
others  who  all  along  expected  it.  A  great  many  people  said  it 
was  not  worth  his  while,  at  sixty-five,  to  barter  his  principles  even 
for  a  bishopric ;  but  men  of  the  stamp  of  Lord  Greenwich  and 
Mr.  l.)e  Tabley,  who  took  a  secular  view  of  the  matter,  main 
tained  that  if  he  was  only  to  enjoy  his  prosperity  for  five  years, 
there  was  an  amount  of  good  living  in  five  years  of  episcopacy, 
for  which  t':o  price  paid  was  far  from  unreasonable. 

Those  who  took  a  metaphysical  view  of  the  case  did  not  fail 
to  recollect  the  ancient  doctrine  of  the  duplicity  of  the  human 
mind.  The  Socratic  philosophy,  for  instance,  consisted  in  the 
retiring  of  a  man  within  himself,  to  hold  communion  Avith  the 
alter  ego  which  Nature  has  assigned  to  each  of  us.  When  this 
communion  is  of  an  harmonious  and  amiable  nature,  the  result 
is  what  we  call  singleness  of  mind  or  purpose  ;  when  it  is  contro 
versial,  it  necessarily  leads  to  the  phenomenon  of  doubleminded- 
ness,  of  which  the  practical  result  is  the  line  of  conduct  vulgarly 
called  tergiversation.  "  According,"  says  Lord  Shaftesbury,  "  as 
the  dual  number  is  practically  formed  in  us,  we  are  supposed  to 
advance  in  wisdom  and  moral  perfection."  The  microcosm,  in 
fact,  or  little  world  in  our  bosoms,  is  divided  into  two  parties, 
and  the  more  thorough  the  division  is,  the  more  metaphysically 
complete  is  our  intellectual  constitution.  We  are  therefore  al 
ways  to  understand  a  perfect,  or  (what  is  tantamount  thereto) 
a  double  public  character  as  speaking  in  only  one  of  his  persons 
at  a  time.  Such  a  man  has  his  Whig  self  and  his  Tory  self; 
what  are  loosely  called  his  inconsistencies,  are  in  reality  nothing 
but  the  discordant  relations  subsisting  between  the  two  parties 
in  his  breast.  Two  minds,  like  two  heads,  are  obviously  better 
than  one ;  but  what  would  be  the  use  of  two  minds,  if  they  were 
always  to  think  the  same  thing,  or  always  come  to  the  same 
conclusion  ?  Nature  does  nothing  in  vain,  and  it  is  well  worthy 
of  observation,  as  a  beautiful  analogy  between  our  physical  and 
our  moral  structure,  that  the  cavity  of  the  human  thorax  con 
tains  two  lungs,  or  organs  of  br  Bathing,  for  which  no  other  moral 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  227 

use  can  be  assigned  but  to  enable  a  man  to  blow  hot  and  cold 
with  the  same  breath. 

It  was  at  Mrs.  Barsac's  ball,  the  day  after  the  incidents  of  the 
last  chapter,  that  the  Dean's  promotion  was  first  announced 
authentically  to  his  family.  The  ball  far  exceeded  in  splendour 
anything  of  the  kind  at  Hereford,  but  in  London  it  made  no 
move  sensation  than  artunion  at  a  spinster's  tea-table  at  Islington 
or  Hackney.  There  were  three  lords,  however,  wherever  Mrs. 
Bfirsac  had  picked  them  up  ;  but,  to  be  sure,  two  were  only  in 
the  Irish  or  Scotch  peerage,  and  the  third  was  Lord  Greenwich, 
whom  Bareac  had  met  one  day  at  Mr-;.  Monntjoy's,  and  toadied 
with  so  much  industry  and  success,  as  to  prevail  on  him  to  grace 
liis  wife's  ball  with  his  portly  presence.  Lord  Greenwich,  indeed, 
was  more  like  an  alderman  than  a  nobleman,  and  he  was  as  alder- 
manic  in  his  tastes  as  in  his  personal  appearance.  But  the  star 
on  his  coat  was  the  cynosure  of  many  an  eye  notwithstanding, 
and  it  fascinated  no  eyes  so  much  as  Mrs.  Barsac's,  who  had 
already  conceived  the  idea  of  securing  him  for  one  of  the  re 
maining  Sherries. 

Mrs.  Barsac  was  not  much  of  a  star-gazer,  astronomically 
speaking  ;  but  of  a  stai*on  the  breast  of  nobility  she  was  as  sharp 
an  observer  as  Sir  John  Herschel,  and  as  diligent  with  her  optic 
glass  as  Galileo  himself.  She  took  a  baron's  altitude  with  pre 
cision,  noted  the  transit  of  a  viscount  across  the  floor  to  a  second, 
and  could  tell  how*  many  digits  an  earl  was  eclipsed  by  a  mar 
quis,  with  a  degree  of  accuracy  that  was  quite  scientific.  In 
short  Mrs.  Barsac  was  a  very  clever  practical  astronomer  in  her 
way  ;  and  there  was  this  always  to  comfort  her  in  her  at 
tention  to  the  phenomena  of  the  peerage,  that  if  she  tailed  to 
win  a  husband  for  her  daughters,  she  succeeded  probably  in  gain 
ing  a  customer  for  her  husband. 

Neither  Primrose  nor  Henry  Winning  had  seen  Mrs.  Mount- 
joy  since  the  interview  they  both  had  with  her  upon  the  subject 
of  Reuben's  interests.  They  now  formed  a  little  group  in  a  cor 
ner  with  the  fair  widow  and  Mrs.  Wyndham,  and  it  was  then, 
that  Reuben's  absence  from  the  ball  was  first  noticed  by  his 
friends.  Winning  was  delighted  at. the  burning  of  the  speech, 
and  applauded  Mrs.  Wyndham  to  the  skies  for  her  energy  and 
decision.  Primrose  shook  his  head,  and  expressed  his  apprehen 
sions  that  all  was  not  quite  safe  yet :  it  depended  entirely,  he 
said,  upon  the  question,  whether  his  eloquent  and  wrong-headed 
young  friend  lad  committed  his  oration  to  memory  or  not. 


228  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

Winning  thought  lie  had  not,  and  Mrs.  Mountjoy  fortified  his 
opinion  by  mentioning  what  her  maid  had  related  of  Reuben's 
extreme  vexation  at  missing  the  papers  on  the  morning  he  left 
town. 

"  In  all  probability,  however,"  said  Winning,  "  we  are  attach 
ing  more  importance  to  the  matter  than  it  merits,  so  that  if  Mrs. 
Wyndham  feels  disposed  to  dance,  and  would  prefer  me  for  her 
partner,  to  the  gallant  Captain  Shunfield,  who  is  advancing  to 
solicit  that  honour,  I  am  humbly  at,  her  command." 

Mrs.  Wyndham,  as  she  looked  that  ni^ht  at  her  mother's 
ball,  was  as  charming  a  little  duodecimo  edition  of  woman-kind 
as  you  ever  saw  in  the  library  of  beauty.  The  milliner  had 
bound  her  with  extreme,  elegance;  the  jeweller  had  embellished 
her  richly  but  simply  ;  and  if  it  would  not  be  pushing  the  meta- 
phor»too  far,  it  might  be  truly  added  that  the  contents  of  the 
volume  were  as  pion-ing  as  its  exterior  was  attractive,  every  page 
being  illustrated  with  good  sense,  and  illuminated  with  good 
humour. 

Mr.  Primrose  remained  at  the  widow's  side.  She  was  not 
one  of  the  youngest  beauties  in  the  room  unquestionably,  but  she 
was  probably  the  most  agreeable  woman,  and,  indeed,  she  was 
surprisingly  handsome,  considering  the  date  of  her  charms,  for 
though  much  }-ounger  than  her  sister,  Mrs.  Medlicott,  she  was 
still  of  the  same  generation.  Hyacinth  Primrose  had  a  longer 
tete-a-tete  with  her  upon  this  occasion  than  he  had  ever  enjoyed 
before,  and,  no  doubt,  he  made  considerable  progress  in  the 
course  of  it  towards  that  distinguished  position  in  her  favour  and 
confidence,  in  which  it  was  his  lot  eventually  to  be  placed. 

Occasionally,  however,  they  talked  of  little  matters  connected 
with  the  scene  before  their  eyes  and  the  people  whirling  about 
them. 

Mrs.  Mountjoy,  for  example,  wanted  to  know — "  Who  was 
the  important  little  man  dancing  with  Miss  Barsac?" 

"  My  dry  old  friend  Amontillado !"  sakl  Primrose.  "  But  the 
man,  let  me  see,  I  ought  to  know  him, — why  it's  little  Griffin, 
who  purloined  Reuben's  paper  on  heraldry,  and  sold  it  for  the 
place  of  Rouge-Dragon,  or  Blue-Mantle.  In  common  justice,  he 
ought  to  be  dancing  on  the  tread-mill  at  this  moment." 

"  Now,  is  it  possible  such  a  wretch  can  be  popular  in  society  ? 
I  have  heard  of  a  set  of  men  called  diners-out.  Surely,  Mr, 
Griffin  cannot  be  one  of  them." 

"  Griffin  dines  very  seldom  out,"  saia  Primrose.  "  when  the 


OB,  THE  COMING   MAN.  229 

town  is  healthy ;  he  gets  an  invitation  now  and  then  when  in 
fluenza  is  going,  or  the  cholera." 

"  Is  he  a  doctor  «" 

Primrose  laughed. 

"  No,  no,  he  is  not  a  doctor,  "but  during  epidemics  people  are 
constantly  getting  apologies;  they  must  till  up  their  tables,  and 
they  ask  people  like  my  friend  Blue-Mantle,  of  whom  they  ii'jvcr 
think  except  under  such  desperate  circumstances." 

"  Very  amusing,"  said  Sirs.  Mountjoy  ;  "  now  who  is  the 
man  dancing  with  Miss  Jane  Barsac.'" 

"A  youth  unknown  to  fame,  at  all  events  to  me,"  said  Prim 
rose.  "  One  is  not  bound  to  know  people  in  a  house  like  this, 
though  as  a  general  rule  one  ought  to  know  everybody :  in  fact, 
to  live  in  London,  one  should  know  two  things,  who's  who,  and 
what's  what.  I  can't  think  of  any  other  branch  of  knowledge 
that's  absolutely  necessary." 

"  What  would  Reuben  say  to  that  ?"  said  Mrs.  Mountjoy. 

"  But  see  !"  said  Hyacinth,  "here  is  Mr.  Barsac  coming  to 
wards  us,  with  some  design,  I  fancy,  upon  you." 

"  To  take  me  down  to  supper.  How  particularly  great  he  is 
to-night ;  he  reminds  me  of  a  nabob." 

"  Nabobbery  itself,"  said  Hyacinth  ;  "  that  must  be  the  Lord 
Mayor's  chain  he  has  to  his  watch,  and  observe  the  conservatory 
in  his  button-hole !  He  resembles  Lombard-street  and  Covent- 
garden  combined." 

"  He  reminds  me,"  said  De  Tabley,  who  was  passing,  "  of  one 
of  his  own  magnums ;  I  doubt  if  many  of  them  have  got  such 
a  bouquet." 

Mr.  Barsac  led  Mrs.  Mountjoy  to  supper  with  great  state  and 
ceremony,  talking  of  nothing  under  a  coronet  the  whole  of  the 
way,  and  speaking  much  less  to  be  heard  by  her  than  to  produce 
an  imposing  effect  upon  his  mob  of  guests,  particularly  Mr.  Lead- 
enhall  and  Sir  Finch  Goldfinch ;  and  upon  far  the  greater  pro 
portion  of  them  he  probably  succeeded  in  producing  the  effect 
he  desired.  The  merchant  was  immediately  followed  by  corpu 
lent  Lord  Greenwich,  conducting  Mrs.  Barsac ;  next  went  Win 
ning  with  Mrs.  Wyndham.  The  order  of  the  rest  is  of  little 
consequence.  As  to  Primrose,  he  slipped  down  alone,  with  a 
view  to  get  near  Mrs.  Mountjoy  again,  and  save  her  from  being 
bored  to  death  by  Barsac's  dull  pomposity. 

But  the  precaution  was  superfluous.  Just  as  Mrs.  Wyndham 
reached  the  door  of  the  supper-room,  a  servant  put  a  slip  of  pa- 


230  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

per  carelessly  folded  and  directed  in  a  scarce  legible  scrawl,  into 
her  hands.  The  haste  and  agitation  with  which  she  opened  and 
read  it,  dropping  Winning's  arm  and  her  fan  at  the  same  mo 
ment,  left  no  doubt  upon  the  mind  of  any  one  who  observed  what 
took  place  that  it  was  a  dispatch  from  the  Dean.  He  had  just 
arrived  in  town,  and,  with  his  usual  singularity,  had  gone  to  his 
daughter's  lodgings  in  Burlington  Gardens,  instead  of  to  his 
father-in-law's  house  in  Portland  Place.  The  note  communicated 
in  the  driest  and  fewest  terms  possible,  the  fact  of  the  writer's 
elevation  to  the  bench,  and  commanded  his  wife's  immediate  at 
tendance. 

Mrs.  Wyndham  and  Mrs.  Mountjoy  flew  to  him  without  a 
moment's  delay,  while  the  Barsacs  hastened  to  disseminate  among 
their  company,  in  as  easy  and  indifferent  a  tone  as  they  could 
assume,  the  important  fact  that  their  son-in-law  was  Bishop  of 
Shrewsbury. 

Mrs.  Mountjoy  wrote  Reuben  a  few  lines  that  very  night  be 
fore  she  retired  to  rest,  to  apprise  him  of  what  had  occurred.  She 
flattered  herself  that,  even  if  his  speech  had  been  destroyed  to 
no  purpose,  her  letter  would  arrive  in  time  to  prevent  any  thing 
unpleasant  happening  at  Chichester.  But  that  ill-advised  young 
man,  the  victim  at  once  of  his  own  and  his  mother's  vanity,  had 
already  taken  the  fatal  step  which  'rendered  all  the  kind  offices 
of  his  judicious  friends  totally  unavailing. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  TREMENDOUS   DEMONSTRATION. 

MR.  PRIMROSE'S  conjecture  hit  the  mark  only  too  truly.  Al 
though  Mr.  Medlicott  had  been  annoyed  and  embarrassed  by  the 
loss  of  his  speech,  the  toil  of  composition,  the  collection  of  the 
flowers,  the  accumulation  of  images,  the  forging  of  the  thunder 
bolts,  the  hammering,  the  moulding,  the  filing,  and  the  polishing 
had  sufficiently  impressed  the  principal  portions  of  that  great 
effort  on  his  memory  ;  so  that  those  daring  incendiaries,  his  good 
aunt  and  his  pretty  grandmamma  (though  we  must  acquit  them 
on  the  criminal  charge),  stand  clearly  convicted  on  the  most  se- 
"ious  part  of  the  indictment,  the  count  for  a  blunder. 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  231 

The  "  great  and  important  day"  arrived ;  the  mighty  meet 
ing,  the  "  tremendous  demonstration,"  was  held  at  Chichester, 
and  went  off  with  only  too  much  eclat  for  the  most  conspicuous 
personage  who  figured  at  it. 

All  "  tremendous  demonstrations"  resemble  one  another- very 
closely ;  an  excited  knot  of  noblemen  and  gentlemen  on  a  plat 
form,  a  tumultuous  sea  of  heads  on  the  floor,  an  agitated  bevy 
of  mothers,  aunts,  and  sisters  in  a  gallery,  a  little  table  for  re 
porters,  a  peer  in  the  chair,  if  a  peer  can  be  found  to  fill  it>  but 
never  anything  beneath  the  baronetage.  On  the  present  occa 
sion,  the  platform  was  thronged  with  parsons  and  squires  until  it 
overflowed ;  and  every  now  and  then  a  vicar,  or  a  pair  of  top- 
boots,  came  tumbling  down  among  the  smock-frocks,  who  united 
their  shoulders  to  heave  him  up  again.  When  this  disaster  be- 
fel  a  man  of  ordinary  dimensions,  he  was  reinstated  on  the  plat 
form  with  no  great  difficulty ;  but  when  it  happened  to  public 
characters  of  more  than  average  weight,  the  attempt  to  replace 
them  sometimes  proved  as  ineffectual  as  in  the  case  of  the  cele 
brated  Ilumpty  Dumpty  in  the  nursery  rhyme.  It  was  unques 
tionably  "  a  tremendous  demonstration"  of  the  lungs  of  the  men 
of  Sussex.  John  Bull  bellowed  like  a  herd  of  his  four-footed 
namesakes,  and  the  Protestant  lion  roared  his  best,  without  the 
slightest  respect  to  the  nerves  of  the  ladies.  Bottom  would  have 
been  greatly  scandalised.  Awful  resolutions  were  proposed  by 
peers,  and  seconded  by  commoners,  but  as  to  the  eloquence,  it 
was  uniformly  stifled  by  its  own  applause,  and  perished  for  ever 
in  the  premature  raptures  of  the  audience.  It  was  proved,  how 
ever,  beyond  a  doubt,  that  there  were  two  Curtii  present,  ready 
to  jump  into  any  chasm  which  the  British  soil  might  please  to 
open  beneath  their  feet ;  a  Brutus  in  buckskin  was  equally  pre 
pared  to  sacrifice  all  the  private  affections  to  the  public  welfare ; 
as  to  Sydneys,  Hampdens,  and  Russells,  they  appeared  that  day 
in  a  force  that  reflected  undying  honour  upon  the  patriotism  of 
Englishmen.  How  often  Popery  was  flatly  negatived  with  the 
energy  of  Cromwell  himself,  is  not  to  be  told  in  figuns ;  but 
three  orators,  at  least,  pledged  their  lives  and  fortunes  to  defend 
the  throne  and  the  altar ;  the  same  number  of  prophetic  voices 
foretold  the  sunset  of  British  liberty ;  and  thrice  three  times  was 
it  powerfully  urged  upon  the  vast  assembly  to  unite,  heart  and 
hand,  in  "  a  strong  pull,  a  long  pull,  and  a  pull  altogether." 

In  the  front  of  the  gallery  assigned  to  the  ladies,  who  came 
to  bra\e  the  roaring  of  the  lion  aforesaid,  sat  Mrs.  Mecllicott,  and 


232  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

Hannah  and  Mary  Hopkins.  Their  eyes  were  riveted  on  the 
platform,  but  it  was  not  ou'the  chairman  they  gazed,  although 
he  was  the  Earl  of  Stromuess,  nor  on  the  Vicar,  for  he  was  lost 
in  the  crowd,  nor  on  Mr.  Pigwidgeon,  ludicrous  figure  as  he  cut, 
for  there  was  no  novelty  in  that — you  had  only  to  watch  the 
point  where  the  three  lines  of  female  vision  united,  to  convince 
yourself  that  they  sought  nothing,  saw  nothing,  thought  of  notli- 
i:ig  during  that  great  day  and  demonstration,  but  the  youngest 
of  the  patriot  band,  he  who  came  to  dedicate  the  first-fruits  of 
his  talents  and  his  fame  to  the  service  of  his  creed  and  his  coun 
try.  Probably  few  of  the  ladies  present  had  been  unobservant 
of  Reuben  from  an  early  period  of  the  day,  for  lie  was  conspicu 
ous  not  only  by  his  handsome  person,  but  by  his  dress,  which 
could  scarcely  have  been  gayer  or  more  elaborate  had  he  been 
going  to  be  married,  instead  of  only  going  to  make  a  speech. 
His  hair,  artfully  divided,  shone  like  Apollo's,  and  flowed  on  his 
shoulders  almost  as  wantonly  as  in  his  boyhood ;  a  bouquet, 
nearly  as  large  as  Barsac's,  bloomed  in  his  button-hole  ;  and  the 
virgin  whiteness  of  his  gloves  typified  the  maiden  eloquence  with 
which  he  was  about  to  enchant  the  world.  The  foppery  was  not 
entirely  his  own ;  the  gloves'were  due  to  his  mother,  the  flowers 
had  been  insisted  on  and  even  arranged  on  his  breast  by  the 
young  Quakeress.  Nor  was  it  amiss  that  so  much  care  had  been 
bestowed  on  his  toilette;  for  had  he  been  confounded  with  the 
parsons  and  the  squires,  his  rising  would  not  have  commanded 
the  attention  that  it  it  did,  and  his  oratory  would  probably  have 
been  lost,  like  that  of  the  rest,  in  the  incessant  uproar  of  the 
meeting.  » 

Everything,  however,  was  propitious,  but,  perhaps,  most  of 
all,  the  emphatic  and  gracious  manner  in  which  the  Earl  of  Strom- 
ness,  a  man  of  the  highest  courtesy,  introduced  him  to  the 
audience,  as  "  the  son  of  his  respected  friend,  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Medlicott." 

Instantly  the  chawbacons,  hundreds  of  whom  were  the  Earl's 
tenants,  raised  a  shout  that  well  nigh  brought  down  the  roof  of 
the  Court-house.  The  din  was  little  in  unison  with  the  modesty 
and  gentleness  with  which  the  palpitating  Reuben  took  his  place 
in  the  front  of  the  platform.  His  rising  was  soft  as  the  south 
wind ;  and  you  might  have  marked  its  effects  in  the  female  gal 
lery,  how  the  breeze  fluttered  the  bonnets,  rustled  among  the 
ribbons,  and  especially  how  it  made  the  maternal  stomacher  rise 
and  fall,  like  a  sail  when  the  wind  is  irresolute.  He  rose,  he 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  233 

spoke,  ho  triumphed.  His  was  the  only  speech  that  was  not 
only  delivered,  but  of  which  a  considerable  portion  was  heard. 
A  most  excellent  speech  it  was  of  the  school  of  oratory  it  belonged 
to,  though  there  were  principles  of  eloquence  by  which  it  would 
have  been  cruel  to  have  tried  it.  If,  however,  it  had  the  defects 
of  youth,  it  had  its  merits  also ;  it  was  fresh,  it  was  fiery,  it  was 
animated  and  courageous.  There  was  not  a  Quintilian  in  the 
meeting  to  find  fault  with  it.  Tried  by  the  test  of  success,  not 
Demosthenes  himself  could  have  gained  a  completer  victory.  Up 
flew  a  cloud  of  hats  before  the  exordium  was  over ;  the  orator 
was  actually  invisible  for  a  second.  The  same  demonstration 
was  repeated  a  score  of  times  ;  upon  one  occasion  Mr.  Pigwidgeon 
(who  was  striking  another  stroke  for  a  dinner)  must  throw  up  his 
beaver  among  the  rest,  and  he  never  recovered  it,  for  it  fell 
among  the  mob,  and  svas  trampled  to  pieces  in  an  instant.  The 
hat  was  not  worth  sixpence,  but  he  vowed  it  was  a  new  one — a 
thing  he  had  never  been  known  to  possess  in  his  life.  What 
signified  Mr.  Pigwidgeon's  hat,  or  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  himself? 
Even  Protestantism  was  forgotten  in  the  excitement  and  enthu 
siasm  occasioned  by  the  flowers  of  Reuben's  rhetoric,  not  unaided 
by  the  flowers  in  his  coat.  If  one  passage  outshone  another, 
where  all  was.  splendour,  it  was  the  dangerous  topic  of  apostacy — 
the  graphic  picture  of  a  renegade  divine,  which  reached  its  climax, 
when  the  orator  described  the  vain  endeavours  of  such  a  fallen 
character  to  regain  his  lost  position,  and  imagined  the  reception 
he  would  assuredly  meet  with  from  every  honest  man.  Here  he 
turned  to  good  account  the  lines  in  Milfcn : — 

Think'st  thou,  revolted  spirit,  thy  shape  the  same 

Or  undiminished  glory,  as  when  once 

Thou  stood'st  erect  in  heav'n,  erect  and  pure. 

The  air  was  darkened  with  waving  hats  again ;  the  enthusiasm 
mounted  to  the  galleries,  the  women  waved  their  handkerchiefs 
wildly,  and  Mrs.  Medlicott  and  the  Quakeresses,  who  had  taken 
otl'  their  bonnets  in  consequence  of  the  heat,  tossed  them  about 
fanatically,  and  almost  forgot  their  sex  in  the  violence  of  their 
transports. 

In  short,  it  was  a  relief  to  everybody  when  the  last  'iolt  was 
launched,  and  the  last  long-protracted  peal  of  applause  greeted 
the  solemn  and  high-wrought  peroration. 

The  Vicar  himself,  though  not  nearly  so  susceptible  as  his 
wife,  was  carried  away  by  his  son's  eloquence  almost  as  much  as 


234  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

she  was,  although  he  forbore  from  expressing  his  feelings  with 
equal  energy,  partly  from  his  native  reserve,  partly  out  of  regard 
for  his  hat.  At  the  door  of  the  court-house  he  was  overwhelmed 
with  congratulations.  Old  Matthew  Cox,  with  a  tear  in  his  eyes, 
shook  his  hand,  but  said  nothing.  Mr.  Broad  was  like  a  mad 
man.  The  apothecary  pretended  that  only  for  his  exertions  the 
mob  would  have  insisted  on  carrying  Reuben  home  on  their 
shoulders.  Lord  Stromness  came  up  to  the  Vicar  in  the  kindest 
manner,  and  told  him  that  his  son  had  made  one  of  the  most 
effective  speeches  he  had  ever  heard  in  his  life.  "  That  portrait 
of  a  turncoat,"  said  the  Earl,  "  was  quite  a  masterpiece." 

The  next  moment  a  servant  handed  Mr.  Medlicott  the  letter 
from  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  informing  him,  in  substance,  that  the  most 
conspicuous  turncoat  in  England  was  his  father-in-law. 

"A  pretty  kettle  of  fish,"  said  the  Vicar,  as,  with  visible 
agitation,  he  put  the  letter  in  his  wife's  hands.  She  almost 
shrieked  when  hhe  came  to  the  announcement  of  her  father's 
promotion. 

"  A  pretty  kettle  of  fish,"  said  the  Vicar. 

Reuben  turned  white  when  he  received  the  news.  His  mother 
and  he  exchanged  looks  in  silence.  In  his  countenance  there 
was  nothing  but  pride  and  resentment;  in  hers  were  depicted 
the  same  feelings,  but  mixed  with  vexation  and  regret.  The 
poor  Quakeresses  were  quite  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  what  was 
in  the  wind,  seeing  joy  and  triumph  so  soon  turned  into  chagrin 
and  disappointment ;  and  they  were  still  more  at  a  loss  to  under 
stand  matters,  when  they  learned  that  all  arose  from  the  an 
nouncement  that  Dean  Wyndham  was  Bishop  of  Shrewsbury. 

"  I  don't  believe  it  yet,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott,  abruptly  laying 
down  her  fork  in  the  middle  of  the  silent  dinner;  "I  can't  bring 
myself  to  believe  it." 

"  At  all  events,"  said  Reuben,  "  I  shall  never  regret  having 
told  the  truth." 

"  Thou  never  wilt  have  cause,"  said  poor  Mary  Hopkins, 
enthusiastically. 

"  At  the  same  time,"  said  the  Vicar,  in  a  low  and  very  serious 
key,  "  I  hope  the  truth  you  have  told  will  be  confined  pretty 
much  to  our  own  neighbourhood  ;  I  should  not  like  it  to  travel 
up  to  London." 

He  had  scarcely  uttered  the  words,  when  in  bustled  Mr.  Pig- 
widgeon  to  say  that  he  had  taken  measures  to  secure  a  full  report 
of  Reuben's  speech  in  the  "  Chichester  Mercury,"  and  some  other 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  235 

provincial   organ,  with  which  he  had  some  influence  or  con 
nexion. 

"Thank  you  very  much  for  your  kind  offices,"  said  the  Vicar, 
drily,  and  biting  his  lip,  "  but  my  son  is  content  with  the  repu 
tation  he  has  made  among  his  friends  here;  he  has  no  ambition 
to  In-  a  political  character;  in  fact."  he  added,  rising  from  the  ta 
ble,  approaching  the  apothecary,  and  speaking  in  a  lower  but 
more  earnest  tone,  "  if  you  could  induce  the  papers  you  mention 
to  report  us  as  concisely  as  possible,  we  should  take  it  as  a  par 
ticular  favour." 

The  fawning  apothecary  shook  his  head  and  said,  "  he  feared 
that  would  be  quite  out  of  the  question  ;  Master  Reuben's  speech 
was  the  speech  of  the  day,  and  a  report  of  the  meeting  without 
it  would  be  the  play  of  Hamlet,  with  Ilamlet's  part  omitted." 

"  That's  very  true,"  said  Mi's.  Medlicott,  still  unable  to  see  her 
way  clearly  through  Reuben's  unlucky  laurels. 

"  What  does  my  eloquent  friend  say  himself?"  said  Mr.  Pig- 
widgeon. 

Reuben  replied,  not  without  more  vain-glory  than  quite  be 
came  him,  that  he  had  thought  it  his  duty  to  express  his  senti 
ments  freely  and  boldly  on  the  late  occasion  ;  but,  that  duty  hav- 
.ng  been  performed,  he  would  leave  it  to  others  to  decide  whether 
it  would  be  of  service,  or  the  contrary,  to  the  cause  he  had  advo 
cated,  that  his  speech  should  be  circulated  through  the  empire. 

"  Upon  that  there  can  be  but  one  opinion,"  said  the  flattering, 
false  Pigwidgeon. 

"Possibly,"  said  the  Vicar,  drawing  him  aside;  "but  I  am 
averse  to  unnecessary  publicity  upon  many  accounts;  in  fact  I 
am  anxious  on  the  point ;  go  and  use  your  influence  to  have  the 
reports  short,  and  come  back  and  sup  with  us.  There  will  be  a 
venison  hash  and  a  roast  pullet,  and  we  will  not  sit  down  until 
you  return,  if  you  don't  come  back  till  midnight." 

The  apothecary  had  been  aware  that  a  present  of  a  haunch 
from  Lord  Stromness  had  recently  been  received  at  the  Vicarage, 
and  that  it  had  regaled  the  committee  of  management,  which  Mr. 
Medlicott  had  entertained  on  the  preceding  day ;  but  he  had 
given  up  all  hopes  of  partaking  of  it  in  any  form,  so  that  when 
he  heard  of  the  hash,  it  sounded  in  his  ears  melodiously,  then 
pleasantly  affected  his  imagination,  and  finally  made  his  lips 
water.  As  he  drove  to  Chichester  in  his  gig,  he  had  time,  how 
ever,  for  other  thoughts,  and  among  his  various  mental  employ 
ments,  he  puzzled  himself  thinking  what  could  possibly  be  the 
Vicar's  reason  for  wishing  to  suppress  his  so"'°  «neech.  While 


236  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

he  was  trying  to  solve  this  riddle,  he  saw  a  gentleman  on  horse 
back  approaching  him,  who  proved  to  be  his  patient,  Mr.  Old- 
port.  Pigwidgeon  asked  if  any  news  had  arrived  from  London  ? 

"  News,  indeed,"  said  the  Canon,  "  very  agreeable  news  for 
me,  and  still  more  agreeable  for  your  old  acquaintance  Medlicott, 
— the  mitre  has  tallen  on  my  friend  Wyndham's  head  at  last." 

"  You  don't  say  so,"  said  the  apothecary  in  his  gig. 

"  I  have  it  under  his  own  hand  and  seal,"  said  the  Canon. 
"  Here's  his  letter  for  you  to  read  :"  and  he  fumbled  in  his  pocket, 
drew  forth  the  Dean's  letter,  and  handed  it  to  Pigwidgeon,  who 
read  it  greedily. 

"  You  see,"  said  the  Canon,  "  he  is  very  angry  with  you  all 
for  getting  up  that  meeting,  and  by  the  by,  let  me  ask,  what 
could  have  possessed  Medlicott  to  allow  his  son  to  come  out  so 
strongly  as  "I  am  told  he  did  ;  why  it  was  just  the  very  thing  to 
put  his  grandfather  beside  himself." 

"  Then  he  is  ratting  with  the  ministry  ?"  said  the  apothecary. 

"  To  be  sure  he  is,"  said  the  Canon,  "  if  ratting  is  the  word. 
Do  you  think  he  got  the  bishopric  on  condition  of  opposing 
them  ?" 

"  I  see,"  said  Pigwidgeon. 

The  Canon  ambled  home,  and  the  apothecary  trotted  into 
town,  now  in  full  possession  of  the  Vicar's  motives  for  desiring  to 
cushion  his  son's  oratory.  After  visiting  the  newspaper-offices, 
he  trotted  back  again  to  the  Vicarage,  which  he  reached  in  rea 
sonable  time  to  enjoy  the  hash,  the  pullet,  and  a  bottle  of  the 
Vicar's  best  wine.  Of  his  mission  he  said  very  little,  only  shook 
his  head,  winked  a  great  deal,  protested  he  had  done  his  best; 
what  more  could  Pigwidgeon  do  ?  The  Vicar  loaded  the  apothe 
cary's  plate,  replenished  his  glass  often,  and  waited  for  the  pa 
pers  of  the  morning. 

It  then  appeared,  not  that  the  apothecary  had  not  used  his 
best  exertions,  but  that  he  did  not  possess  as  much  influence  as  he 
boasted  over  the  public  press  of  Chichester.  One  newspaper,  the 
Mercury,  printed  Reuben's  oration  at  full  length ;  the  other  pub 
lished  only  an  abstract  of  the  greater  part,  but  gave  the  objec 
tionable  passages  in  full,  which  of  course  had  the  effect  of  making 
them  doubly  conspicuous  and  doubly  offensive. 

So  strong  is  the  principle  of  maternal  vanity,  that  Mrs.  Med 
licott  was  more  pleased  by  seeing  her  Reuben's  oratory  in  print, 
than  distressed  to  think  of  the  ill  blood  it  was  calculated  to  pro 
duce  in  the  family,  and  the  injury  it  was  so  likely  to  do  the 
young  man  himself. 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN.  237 

As  to  the  latter  personage,  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  stand 
by  his  grandfather's  cast-off  opinions  and  principles  at  all  risks. 
Nothing  annoyed  Reuben  so  much  in  the  whole  affair,  as  the 
blundering  of  the  Mercury,  which  utterly  destroyed  his  quotation 
from  Milton,  by  giving  "revolting  spirit"  instead  of  "  revolted." 

This  alone  would  have  suggested  the  expediency  of  present 
ing  the  public  with  a  revised  and  authentic  report  of  his  speech, 
which  he  accordingly  did  before  the  expiration  of  a  week,  in  the 
form  of  a  pamphlet.  Mary  Hopkins  copied  it  for  the  printers 
with  her  own  hand.  It  was  published  at  Chiche.ster,  and  it  was 
witli  no  little  difficulty  the  Vicar  restrained  his  wife  from  getting 
an  engraving-  prefixed  to  it  from  the  picture  which  Blanche  liar- 
sac  had  made  of  Reuben  when  at  school.  The  engraving  was 
actually  executed,  and  Mrs.  Medlicott  had  already  distributed 
many  copies  of  it  among  her  friends. 


CHAPTER  V. 

A  CHAPTER  OF  CONSEQUENCES. 

AT  a  wonderfully  early  hour  on  the  morning  suoceeding  that 
memorable  ball,  at  which  the  Dean's  conversion  and  its  splendid 
reward  had  been  first  publicly  announced,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barsac 
were  actively  engaged  revolutionising  all  the  arrangements  of 
their  household,  to  get  a  suite  of  apartments  in  readiness  suitable 
to  their  notions  of  the  rank  and  dignity  of  a  bishop.  Closets 
were  turned  into  bedrooms;  governesses  rose  in  the  world,  not 
much  to  their  comfort,  as  happens  in  many  elevations;  removing, 
shifting,  exchanging,  and  packing,  were  the  order  of  the  day ;  in 
short,  there  was  no  amount  of  inconvenience  to  which  the  Bar- 
sacs  were  not  prepared  to  submit  in  their  own  persons,  and  inflict 
upon  everybody  else  (particularly  upon  their  servants  and  de 
pendents),  for  the  sake  of  paying  all  due  respect  to  the  man  whom 
the  King  had  delighted  to  honour.  But  this  was  not  all :  the 
furniture  of  the  bed-room  designed  for  the  right  reverend  Prelate 
was  not  thought  new  or  rich  enough  for  him,  so  Barsac  went  im 
mediately  to  the  shop  of  one  of  his  Majesty's  cabinet-makers  and 
upholsterers,  and  bought  a  variety  of  superb  articles,  for  which 
he  paid  a  proportionally  superb  price.  Among  others  was  a  gor 
geous  bed,  which  the  upholsterer,  as  soon  as  he  learned  that  it 


238  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS j 

was  intended  to  receive  a  bishop,  proposed  to  hang  with  curtains 
of  purple  silk  or  velvet,  which,  with  a  fringe  of  gold  lact,  would, 
he  conceived,  be  at  once  rich,  chaste,  and  appropriate.  Barsac 
was  of  the  same  opinion.  Indeed,  it  was  surprising  he  did  not 
order  the  arms  of  the  see  of  Shrewsbury,  or  at  least  a  mitre,  to  be 
embroidered  upon  the  drapery.  However,  the  canopy  of  purple 
and  gold  satisfied  the  merchant's  notions  of  what  was  "  chaste 
and  appropriate ;"  and  so  expeditiously  were  his  orders  executed, 
that  before  dusk  the  same  evening  the  upholsterer's  men  were 
putting  up  the  episcopal  couch,  surrounded  by  the  Barsac  fry  and 
a  bevy  of  curious  maids,  bereft  of  the  faculties  of  speech  by  the 
spectacle  of  such  magnificence. 

But^  unfortunately,  the  Bishop  did  not  go  to  Portland  Place 
at  all,  so  that  all  these  fine  preparations  were  thrown  away  upon 
him.  Burlington  Gardens  suited  him  better,  and  as  there  was 
room  enough  in  the  same  house  with  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  he  took  up 
his  quarters  there  for  the  present.  The  Barsacs  were  greatly 
mortified,  and  it  would  have  increased  their  mortification  not  a 
little,  if  they  could  have  heard  the  observations  the  Bishop  made 
upon  their  vulgar  folly,  when  his  daughter  told  him  of  the  trouble 
and  expense  they  had  gone  to. 

It  was  a  hint  to  Mrs.  Mountjoy.  She  recollected  her  own 
sumptuous  arrangements  for  Reuben,  and  for  fear  of  her  father 
discovering  them  and  making  more  of  the  same  remarks,  she 
.took  the  prudent  precaution  of  locking  up  her  nephew's  room. 

The  Bishop  remained  sequestered  for  some  days,  paid  one  or 
two  official  visits,  received  a  few  friends  himself,  but  peremptorily 
declined  to  dine  out,  even  with  the  Barsacs,  who  were  most  im 
portunate,  promising  him  nothing  but  quiet  family  parties,  though, 
had  he  consented,  they  would  have  been  capable  of  the  perfidy  of 
inviting  one  or  two  of  their  lordly  acquaintance  and  customers — 
Lord  Greenwich,  at  least — to  meet  him. 

The  Dean — we  should  say,  the  Bishop — never  thorght  of 
Reuben,  until  he  was  reminded  of  him  by  a  congratulatory  visit 
from  Mr.  Primrose.  Then  he  spoke  of  him  kindly,  but  dismissed 
the  subject  in  a  moment,  with  his  usual  absorption  in  his  own 
immediate  concerns.  Hyacinth  he  received  most  cordially,  and 
though  in  conversation  with  him  he  never  alluded  to  the  sketch 
of  himself  which  had  appeared'  a  couple  of  years  ago,  in  the  Cam 
bridge  Miscellany,  the  reception  he  now  gave  the  writer  showed 
how  extremely  agreeable  had  been  the  incense  offered  up  to  him 
upon  that  occasion.  Indeed,  he  told  his  wife  ajjcl  daughter  pri- 


,OK,  THE   COMING  MAN.  239 

vately  (and  between  them,  it  soon  reached  Mr.  Primrose),  iliat  lie 
considered  himself  in  some  measure  indebted  to  that  article  for 
the  professional  advancement  he  had  at  length  received. 

Mrs.  Mountjoy,  who  was  beginning  to  reciprocate  the  tender 
sentiments  with  which  she  had  long  since  inspired  Mr.  Primrose, 
and  who  had  also  known  for  some  time  a  secret  not  yet  imparted 
to  the  reader — namely,  that  Hyacinth  (as  unstable  as  Reuben, 
but  more  calculating)  was  now  much  more  inclined  to  the  Church 
than  he  had  ever  been  to  the  bar, — Mrs.  Mountjoy  was  gnitilied 
upon  every  account  to  see  him  standing  so  well  in  her  father's 
estimation.  At  the  same  time  being  a  lady,  who  not  only  had  a 
heart,  but  whose  heart  was  always  in  the  right  place,  the  chief 
object  of  her  anxiety,  at  present,  was  her  nephew ;  she  was  on 
the  rack  until  she  heard  from  Chichester,  and  when  the  news  ar 
rived  of  the  occurrences  there,  it  almost  drove  her  distracted. 

She  was  informed  of  what  took  place  sooner  than  her  father. 
lie  read  the  account  of  the  meeting  for  the  first  time  in  a  Tory 
London  newspaper,  which  continued  to  advocate  his  cast-off  opin 
ions.  The  Bishop  was  at  breakfast.  His  wife  and  daughter  were 
all  in  a  tremor,  knowing  what  the  paper  contained,  and  furtively 
watched  him  with  the  most  fidgety  anxiety,  as  his  eye  roved  from 
column  to' column,  until  at  length  it  arrived  at  the  report  cf  the 
"  tremendous  demonstration,"  'and  was  arrested  by  the  name  of 
Mr.  Reuben  Medlicott. 

•'What's  here?"  cried  the  Bishop,  after  grunting  inarticulately 
for  some  time  over  the  "Morning  Post." 

"  What,  sir?"  faintly  echoed  the  ladies,  only  too  well  know 
ing  what  it  was  that  .had  caught  his  attention  so  strongly,  and 
elicited 'the  exclamation. 

"  What  Reuben  Medlicott  is  this  ? — it  can't  be  Eleanor's  son  ?" 
looking  up  at  Mrs.  Mountjoy  from  beneath  the  shaggy  portcullis 
of  the  eye  that  was  next  her. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  reading  about  the  meeting  at  Chichester, 
sir?"  she  replied  evasively  and  nervously. 

He  read  on  for  a  few  moments,  knitting  his  bushy  brows,  and 
uttering  strange  sounds,  alternately  expressive  of  contempt  and 
displeasure. 

"  My  poor  Reuben,"  said  Mrs.  Mountjoy,  in  a  low  tone  tc 
Mrs.  Wyndham,  but  wishing  to  be  heard  by  her  father;  "he  had 
very  little  idea  of  what  was  to  happen  when  he  left  town  to  at 
tend  that  meeting." 

"Impossible  he  could,"  said  Mrs.  Wyndham,  in  the  same  key. 


240  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

"What  business  had  he  thereat  all?"  growled  the  prelate, 
lowering  the  paper  suddenly,  and  scowling  over  it  at  both  of  them. 

To  this  there  was  no  attempt  at  an  answer.  He  then  recom 
menced  reading,  every  now  and  then  repeating  aloud,  either  in 
mockery  or  indignation,  some  phrase  that  particularly  struck 
him,  such  as  "public  duty" — "political  principles" — ''Protestant 
constitution'' — and  so  forth,  until  he  came  to  the  word  "apcsta- 
cy,"  which  he  muttered  between  his  teeth  with  extreme  bitter 
ness;  then  Hung  the  paper  down,  exclaiming — 

"  This  is  worse  than  burning  my  hay-ricks  !"  then  he  stopped, 
and  commenced  taking  his  coffee. 

"Indeed,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Mountjoy.  "Reuben  never  intend 
ed " 

The  Bishop  desired  to  have  more  sugar.  His  wife,  as  she 
sweetened  his  cup,  threw  in  a  tremulous  word  to  sweeten  his 
temper  also,  but  instead  of  noticing  what  she  said,  he  again 
mumbled  the  word  "  apostacy,"  in  a  tone  of  fierce  derision,  and, 
resuming  the  paper,  proceeded  with  tolerable  patience  until  he 
came  to  the  quotation  from  Milton,  when  he  flung  it  from  him 
once  more,  and  never  spoke  again  the  whole  morning,  except  to 
observe  that  the  words  were  "  revolted  spirit,"  not  "  revolting." 

"  The  fellow  could  not  even  cite  a  hackneyed  passage  correctly." 

Mrs.  Mountjoy  and  Mrs.  Wyndham,  taking  Mr.  Primrose  into 
consultation,  agreed  that  to  make  any  immediate  effort  to  mollify 
the  feelings  of  the  Bishop  towards  Reuben  would  be  injudicious. 
It  was  better  to  leave  it  to  time,  which  would  probably  have  soon 
set  all  to  rights,  had  not  the  same  newspaper  the  following  day 
singled  out  the  new  Bishop  of  Shrewsbury  for  a  violent  personal 
attack,  and  pointedly  applied  to  him  Reuben's  full-length  picture 
of  a  clerical  turncoat,  adding  with  superfluous  malignity  that  the 
eloquent  speaker  was  nearly  related  to  the  prelate,  which  made 
the  denunciation  the  more  terrible  and  crushing. 

It  was  ascertained  long  afterwards  that  this  unjustifiable  bit 
of  personality  was  intended  to  injure  Mr.  Medlicott  as  much  as 
to  annoy  his  grandfather.  The  author  of  it  was  Mr.  Bavard,  who 
never  forgave  Reuben  for  having  out-talked  him  one  clay  at  din 
ner,  and  being  connected  with  the  press  took  this  honourable 
method  of  revenging  it. 

However,  it  was  useless  after  this  to  plead  for  Reuben.  No 
body  dared  to  breathe  his  name  in  the  Bishop's  presence.  The 
Vicar  wrote  to  him  in  terms  little  short  of  abject  The  letter  was 
not  answered.  Mrs.  Medlicott  travelled  to  Shrewsbury  to  appease 
him,  but  he  feigned  illness  and  refused  to  see  her. 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  241 


BOOK  THE  SEVENTH. 


•ilo'd  your  peace,  Sancho,"  said  the  Knight,  "and  don't  interrupt  Mi  Bachelor 
whom  I  entreat  to  proceed ;  and  let  me  know  what  more  is  said  in  this  san«  histwy." 
— Don  Quixoto,  Part  II.,  Book  L 


AEGUMENT. 

As  it  is  the  usage  of  certain  authors  to  choose  subjects  for  their  books, 
more  for  the  sake  of  something  (ram  which  to  digress,  than  as  topics  to 
pursue  steadily, ^)d  themes  always  to  keep  in  view;  treating  them,  ia 
fact,  rather  as  a  Station  to  depart  from,  than  as  a  Terminus  to  arrive  at> 
PO  it  in  with  a  great  many  who  enter  the  learned  professions;  there  is 
frequently  observed  between  what  they  profess,  and  what  they  practise, 
that  wide  interval  or  discrepancy,  which,  when  it  takes  place  in  politics 
or  in  private  morals,  we  call  inconsistency,  or  by  a  harsher  name.  How 
common  is  it  not,  fur  instance,  to  see  the  physician  abandoning  the  cure  of 
his  patients,  and  betaking  himself  to  quacking  the  body-politic;  or  the 
lawyer  spurning  the  courts,  as  soon  as  he  is  qualified  to  plead,  and  turn 
ing  speech-maker,  play-wright,  place  hunter,  or  diner-out  If  we  desire 
to  know  what  manner  of  men  these  loose  and  often  odd  fish  of  the  several 
professions  are — these  camp-followers  of  the  regular  troops  of  law,  physic, 
or  divinity — we  shall  find  them  invariably  consisting  of  your  clever  fel 
lows  ;  the  clever  young  divine  sivperior  to  the  churching  of  women,  and 
as  high  as  the  steeple  above  the  catechising  of  children  ;  the  clever  doctor, 
disgusted  with  the  hospitals,  or  the  versatile  and  voluble  young  barrister,, 
infinitely  too  smart  to  wear  his  wig  every  day  and  mind  his  business. 
The  Greeks  called  a  genius  of  this  volatile  description  Ho\virpdyfji,<t>v ;  the 
Romans  had  the  word  ardelio  to  express  it ;  proof,  if  proof  were  wanting, 
that  ancient  Athens  and  Rome  had  their  "  coming  men,"  or  their  Reuben 
Medlicotts,  as  well  as  modern  Ohichester  and  London.  Attains  was  our 
Reuben's  parallel  in  Martial's  days,  even  to  the  smattering  of  astrology. 

*  Declamas  belle ;  causas  agis,  Attale,  belle. 

Historias  bellas,  carmina  bella  facts. 
Coinponis  belle  nr.mos.  epigrammata  bollo; 

Bfcllns  grammaticus,  bellus  es  astrologus.  « 

Nil  beiie  cnm  facia--,  facis  attamen  omnla  belle. 

\  is  dicam  quid  sis  ?  Magnus  at,  ardelto," 

11 


242  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS | 

These  scatterlings  of  the  church,  the  bar,  and  the  faculty,  may  be  said,  in 
deed,  collectively  to  form  a  sort  of  profession  of  their  own,  the  profession 
of  having  no  definite  calling;  and  of  all  vocations  it  is  the  most  vocal, 
for  the  men  who  have  least  to  do  have  ever  got  the  most  to  say.  The 
greatest  talkers  of  all  are  the  ardelios  of  the  bar.  The  law  is  a  noisy  pro 
fession  when  it  is  followed,  l>ut  a  noisier  still  when  it  is  professed  without 
being  practised.  Prolixity  is  a  part  of  pleading  which  the  young  barris 
ter  is  sure  to  master,  though  he  may  not  pick  up  a  grain  of  law,  and 
when  he  Jacks  the  legitimate  sphere  for  its  exercise,  he  bestows  it  on  the 
public  at  large,  with  the  liberality  of  Dogberry  "bestowing  all  his  tedi- 
ousness"  on  Leonato.  Iron  turns  not  more  instinctively  to  adamant  than 
does  this  precocious  garrulity  seek  its  natural  vent  in  politics.  The  plat 
form  is  its  magnetic  pole.  Thither,  with  one  accord,  or  rather  with,  one 
voice,  or  better  still,  with  one  bray,  rushes  the  whole  Arcadian  herd,  am 
bitious  to  unite  their  several  wordy  torrents  to  the  mighty  flood  of  speech 
and  jargon  by  which  the  country  is  at  once  inundated  and  deafened ;  a 
Deluge  and  a  Babel  at  the  s;ime  time.  Every  one  of  these  gentlemen  is 
a  Cicero,  a  Pericles,  a  Defti nsl  liencs,  or  an  ^Eschines  (at  the  lowest  esl  ima'  o) 
in  some  circle,  club,  society,  or  corporation  of  his  own.  Each  "shakes" 
his  little  "arsenal,"  and  fulminates  over  his  shire,  or  his  native  borough, 
or  some  Musical  Hall,  or  Tavern,  at  the  very  least.  Is  it  so  very  true, 
after  all,  that  no  man  is  a  hero  to  his  valet,  or  a  prophet  in  his  own  country  i 
The  truth  seems  rather  to  be,  that  in  a  general  sense  eveywian  has  a  valet 
to  whom  he  is  a  hero,  and  a  country  whore  he  enjoys  prophetic  honour 
and  reputation.  Every  home  has  its  hero;  on  every  Hearth-stone  some 
little  demigod  is  adored,  nor  did  Egypt  ever  raise  altars  to  more  prepos 
terous  divinities  than  are  to  be  found  in  the  family-worship  of  many  a 
house  in  this  Christian  land.  We  have  seen  in  more  than  one  an  ape 
receiving  divine  honours ;  in  another  a  parrot  canonized  ;  what  sacrifices 
have  we  not  seen  made  to  a  puppy,  what  incense  offered  to  the  "asinue 
communis"  of  these  islands?  Mothers  especially  have  a  hankering  after 
strange  gods,  bowing  the  knee  to  the  dolls  and  idols  of  their  own  making ; 
the  least  blind  and  ,nost  orthodox  of  women  will  take  her  donkey  for  a 
zebra,  and  adore  him  as  a  saint,  if  she  does  not  absolutely  worship  him 
as  a  deity. 


CHAPTER  I. 

ME.   HEDLICOTT   QTJAKKELS   WITH   TTTE   OnUROU. 

ALTHOUGH  Mr.  Medlicott  quarrelled  with  his  grandfather,  it  was 
by  no  means  incumbent  on  him  to  quarrel  with  the  Church,  but 
he  was  not  of  that  opinion.  He  declared  himself  disgusted  with 
a  career  where  the  roads  to  eminence  were  sc  foul  and  crooked. 
It  was  to  no  purpose  that  his  father  and  others  represented  the 
injustice  of  drawing  so  sweeping  a  conclusion  from  a  solitary  case, 


OR,  THE   COirfING   MAN.  243 

and  pointed  to  men  on  the  bench  of  bishops  who  were  not  less 
distinguished  by  their  genius  and  learning  than  by  their  consist 
ency  and  honour  ;  reason  was  against  Reuben,  and  Reuben  was 
therefore  against  reason. 

It  was  a  pity  that  talking  was  not  a  profession.  Mr.  Medlicott 
would  have  embraced  it  with  ardour  and  soon  obtained  the  degree 
of  a  doctor.  But  a  man  must  talk  witb  some  authority,  or  lie 
\\  ill  not  long  have  an  audience  to  hearken  to  him  ;  in  fact,  he  must 
procure  a  license  to  talk  from  one  of  the  learned  professions;  or, 
il  he  desires  to  talk  in  Parliament,  he  must  obtain  a  warrant  from 
some  portion  of  the  public,  which  in  Reuben's  time  was  as  pur- 
chaseable  as  a  horse  or  a  debenture ;  nor,  are  we  yet  grown  so 
dosper ately  virtuous  as  not  to  buy  and  sell  the  same  desirable 
privilege  occasionally. 

The  first  person  to  put  the  senate  into  Mr.  Medlicott's  head 
was  not  his  mother,  to  do  her  justice ;  it  was  Mr.  Broad,  the  cut 
ler,  who,  being  a  rapturous  admirer  of  eloquence,  as  well  as  an 
arrant  Protestant,  had  formed  such  an  exalted  opinion  of  Reuben's 
powers  since  his  speech  at  the  "  tremendous  demonstration,"  that 
he  rambled  about  Chichester  all  day  long,  lamenting  to  every 
body  he  met  that  such  an  extraordinary  and  highly  gifted  young 
man  was  not  in  the  proper  place  for  him,  and  when  people  either 
did  not  know,  or  pretended  not  to  know  what  he  meant,  then  Mr. 
Broad  would  twitch  up  the  long  skirts  of  his  swallow-tailed  blue 
coat,  throw  back  his  head  and  cry — "  Why  the  House,  sir,  to  bo 
sure,  where  else  ?  That's  the  only  place  for  such  an  extraordinary 
and  highly  gifted  young  man.  It's  nonsense  to  talk,  but  we 
nrist  get  liim  into  Parliament  by  hook  or  by  crook.  I'll  subscribe 
a  hundred  pounds  myself  to  purchase  a  borough,  if  it  can  be  man 
aged  in  no  other  way.  It's  a  public  duty,  sir,  and  England  ex 
pects  every  man  to  do  his  duty." 

Mr.  Broad  was  indeed  so  eloquent  in  extolling  Mr.  Medlicott's 
qualifications  for  the  senate,  that  people  used  sometimes  to  laugh 
and  advise  him  to  go  into  the  house  himself^ 

Keep  your  hundred  pounds  for  your  own  return,  Broad, — if 
it's  talking  we  want  in  Parliament,  you  are  just  the  man  that  will 
do  it  as  well  as  Mr.  Medlicott,  or  any  man  alive,"  said  Alderman 
Codd,  a  member  of  the  corporation  of  Chichester. 

"  I  never  saw  that  much  good  came  of  talking  in  Parliament, 
or  anywhere  else,"  said  Mr.  Bliss,  another  burgess. 

"  Talking  does  very  well,"  said  a  third,  "  when  the  man  what 
talks  is  a  squire  with  ten  thousand  a  year,  or  when  he  is  a  lord  or 
a  marquis." 


244  THE    UNIVERSAL    G 

"  When  squires  and  lords  do  talk,"  replied  Mr.  Broad,  w  they 
talk  for  themselves  and  not  for  us ;  but  how  do  they  talk,  sir  ? 
We  had  a  specimen  of  their  abilities  the  other  day  at  our  great 
meeting.  Did  anybody  think  the  squires  and  lords  worth  list 
ening  to  ?  Did  anybody  hear  a  syllable  anybody  said,  or  care 
sixpence  to  hear  it,  until  my  young  friend,  (if  it  is  not  too  great 
a  freedom  to  call  him  so,)  until  young  Mr.  Medlicott  rose  and 
showed  us  what  talking  was.  I  never  knew  what  talking  was 
until  that  day.  As  I  hope  to  be  saved,  I  thought  my  friend  the 
alderman  there  the  greatest  orator  living,  ho,  ho,  ho  ;  but  I  don't 
'drink  so  now,  for  which  I  hope  he  wont  be  very  angry,  ho,  ho,  ho." 

The  alderman  was  so  far  from  being  angry  that  he  laughed 
as  loud  as  Mr.  Broad,  modestly  admitted  the  immense  superiority 
of  our  hero  as  a  public  speaker,  and  promised  Unsubscribe  fifty 
pounds  whenever  a  fair  occasion  should  arise  for  procuring  a  scut 
for  the  eloquent  Mr.  Medlicott. 

"  We'll  soon  have  a  handsome  fund,  I  make  no  doubt,"  said 
the  zealous  cutler  ;  "  England  expects  every  man  to  do  his  duty." 

The  thing  went  not  much  further,  however,  at  that  time. 
Reuben  himself  affected  to  ridicule  the  proposition. 

"  You  must  not  only  get  me  into  the  house,"  he  observed, 
somewhat  ostentatiously,  "  but  maintain  me  in  it;  for  what  am  I, 
but  the  son  of  a  poor  country  clergyman — with  my  bread  to 
make,  and  nothing  to  depend  on  but  my  own  exertions  ?" 

It  was  full  time,  indeed,  to  think  of  that,  and  think  seriously. 
Tie  was  in  his  five-and-twentieth  year,  with  immense  reputation 
for  cleverness  of  all  kinds  ;  but  beyond  the  speech,  and  the  rup 
ture  with  his  grandfather,  just  when  his  friendship  would  have 
been  most  valuable,  Reuben  Medlicott  had  done  absolutely  no 
thing. 

There  still  remained  law  and  physic.  To  the  latter  profession 
Reuben  had  entertained,  since  he  was  a  child,  a  singular  aversion, 
resulting  from  its  association  in  his  mind  with  Mr.  Pigwidgeon ; 
a  similar  distaste  to  that  which  Sir  Samuel  Romilly  early  in  life 
had  for  the  law,  occasioned  by  the  intimacy  of  his  family  with  a 
particularly  disagreeable  attorney.  In  fact,  if  Romilly  had  not 
conquered  that  juvenile  repugnance,  he  would  have  lived  and 
died  a  poor  goldsmith  like  his  father,  instead  of  becoming  one  of 
the  foremost  men  of  his  age  and  country. 

Few  of  Reuben's  friends  harboured  a  doubt  of  his  brilliant 
success  in  whk-hever  of  the  two  professions  he  should  select;  but 
the  most  ambitious  of  them  advocated  the  'aw,  as  leading  to  the 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  245 

highest  distinctions,  both  political  and  social,  besides  being  the 
natural  theatre  for  the  talents  of  which  he  had  lately  given  such 
extraordinary  and  decided  proofs.  Mr.  Broad,  who  thought  the 
bar  a  very  good  plan  as  a  subsidiary  to  the  senate,  declared,  from 
his  experience  in  the  jury-box,  that  no  jury  could  possibly  resist 
the  appeals  of  such  an  orator  as  Master  Reuben. 

"  Jurors  are  only  men,  sir  :  I  have  sat  upon  juries  for  five-and- 
twenty  years,  and  I  know  what  juries  are  made  of.  lie  would 
twist  them  round  his  finger,  sir,  as  easy  as  his  watch-chain  ;  make 
them  believe  anything  he  pleased,  or  nothing  at  all,  if  he  liked  it. 
I  promise  him  verdicts  as  plenty  as  blackberries,  at  least  in  this 
city  and  county.  What  juryman,  sir,  would  listen  to  aprossy  old 
judge,  after  hearing  a  spirit-stirring  address  from  an  eloquent  and 
handsome  young  lawyer  ?  If  he  chooses  the  law,  sir,  he  will  make 
a  fortune  ^s  sure  as  he  earns  a -guinea;  in  the  mean  time,  he 
comes  into  the  house,  as  a  matter  of  course- --there's  where  the 
country  wants  him  ;  the  next  step  makes  him  his  Majesty's  At 
torney  or  Solicitor  General ;  and  from  that  it's  only  a  hop,  step, 
and  jump,  to  the  bench,  sir,  and  the  House  of  Lords." 

Mrs.  Medlicott  took  much  the  same  sober  view  of  the  case; 
but  the  Vicar,  and  the  more  obstinate  and  wrong-headed  of  his 
son's  friends,  had  much  loss  confidence  than  Mr.  Broad  both  in 
Reuben's  oratorical  talents  and  the  susceptibilities  of  Sussex  juries. 
These  considerations,  with  the  obvious  pecuniary  ones,  led  them 
to  favour  medicine ;  and  thus  his  friends  were  divided  into  two 
parties,  with  a  little  detachment  of  waverers,  as  usual,  including 
Mrs.  Mountjoy  and  Mrs.  Wyndham,  whose  ambition  sometimes 
inclined  them  to  side  with  his  mother  in  behalf  of  the  law  ;  but 
at  other  times,  when  they  recollected  Reuben's  agreeable  person, 
and  sweet  and  engaging  manners,  and  imagined  him  stepping  out 
of  a  handsome  chariot,  in  full-dress  suit  of  black,  to  visit  a  duchess, 
as  the  celebrated  Doctor  Medlicott,  they  felt  that  this  was  a  proud 
career  also,  and  were  very  much  disposed  to  concur  with  the 
Vicar. 

Physic,  however,  would  not  have  suited  Mr.  Medlicott.  The 
medical  profession  is  a  grave  and  silent  one — too  saturnine  for  men 
of  mercurial  gifts  ,  more  is  done  by  wise  looks  than  by  fine  speeches ; 
the  physician,  in  short,  lias  many  more  opportunities  of  seeing  the 
tongiK-s  of  others,  than  of  exercising  and  displaying  his  own. 

How  the  balance  of  argument  really  inclined  it  is  of  little  use 
to  inq  lire:  it  probably  was  against  the  law.  since  that  was  the 
course  which  Mrs.  Medlicott  approved,  and  upon  which  her  son 


246  THE    UNIVERSAI     GENIUS) 

ultimately  decided.  And  now,  ouci  more,  his  friends  ^ed  with 
one  another  to  send  him  on  his  course  with  a  fair  wind  in  his 
sails,  and  a  handsome  out  tit  to  trade  on.  Mrs.  Mount]  oy  insisted 
on  paying  the  rent  of  Hs  chamber.-  in  King's  Bench  Walk,  Mr. 
Cox  presented  him  with  a  hundred  pounds  for  the  foundation  of 
a  library,  and  Mr.  Broad,  not  to  be  behind  others,  travelled  up  to 
London  expressly,  and  bought  him  a  set  of  massive  book-cases  of 
richly-carved  oak,  which  had  to  be  cut  down  considerably  to 
make  them,  suit  the  chambers,  and  even  then  they  were  not  to  be 
got  in,  except  by  a  machinery  of  ropes  and  pulleys,  through  the 
windows. 

His  usual  fortune  attended  him  to  the  Temple.  His  fame 
had  gone  before  him  like  a  morning  star,  and  soon  he  gathered 
about  him  another  little  circle  of  worshippers,  who,  captivated  by 
his  specious  and  showy  talents,  granted  him  the  honours  of  a 
triumph  on  credit,  without  giving  him  the  trouble  of  fighting  any 
battle,  or  winning  any  victory.  Throughout  his  life  it  was  his 
fortune  to  be  thought  capable  of  achieving  anything,  while,  in 
fact,  he  was  achieving  nothing  but  that  unsolid  praise  which  is 
so  easily  silenced  by  the  simple  question,  "What  has  he  done?" 
He  was  certainly  much  injured  by  injudicious  friends,  but  when 
he  had  a  man  of  experience  and  sound  judgment  to  consult,  he 
seldom  profited  by  his  advice,  when  to  follow  it  required  a  steady 
course  of  discipline  or  distasteful  labour.  There  was  something 
in  Mr.  Medlicott's  nature  that  was  always  in  revolt  against  the 
practical.  He  had  always  some  views  of  his  own,  which  wore  no 
imposing  and  philosophical  aspect,  while  leading  to  conclusions 
utterly  irreconcileable  with  common  sense.  But  perhaps  his 
greatest  fault  of  all,  was,  that  he  invariably  soared  too  high, 
when,  by  attempting  a  less  ambitious  flight,  he  might  have  risen 
higher,  and  sustained  himself  longer  on  the  wing. 

The  men  who  knew  him  best  predicted  his  failure  at  his  new 
profession  from  the  beginning ;  some  expressed  their  conviction 
that  he  would  never  be  called  to  the  bar.  The  same  ample,  im 
posing,  chiaroscuro  discourse,  which  made  fools  gape,  and  think 
him  a  prodigy  of  parts,  was  the  very  thing  that  made  his  judi 
cious  friends  despair  of  him.  As  to  Winning,  nothing  terrified 
him  so  much  as  Reuben's  "broad  views,"  for  which  shallow  peo 
ple  were  continually  extolling  him,  until  at  length  he  thought 
himself  called  on  to  support  a  character  for  "  broad  views,"  and 
take  a  "  broad  view "  of  evciy  question  presented  to  him.  He 
consulted  Winning  as  to  the  particular  line  he  should  take  in  hia 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  247 

legal  studies.  "I  have  given  him,"  said  Winning,  afterwards, 
"  the  best  advice  in  my  power,  and  now  I  leave  him — to  neglect 
it,  as  I  am  certain  he  will  do." 

There  was  something  in  the  mind  of  our  "coming  man" 
more  French  than  English  in  its  character.  He  had  the  French 
man's  national  passion  for  abstract  ideas,  that  passion,  which  (as 
Sir  James  Stephen  has  truly  remarked)  animates  not  the  books 
of  the  French  only,  but  their  discourses  in  the  senate,  their 
speeches  at  the  bar,  their  conversations  in  their  clubs  and  salons. 
Reuben  had  acquired  the  habit  of  making  abstractions  as  other 
men  do  the  habit  of  rhyming  or  joking.  He  could  be  transcen 
dental,  at  a  moment's  notice,  upon  anything,  or  upon  nothing  at 
all.  His  mind,  like  a  distempered  stomach,  rejected  everything 
solid  and  substantial.  Facts  would  never  lie  on  it  for  a  moment. 
It  lived  upon  intellectual  trifle  and  whip't  cream,  upon  half-mean 
ings  and  no-meanings,  with  the  appetite  of  a  chameleon  for  air, 
or  the  devotion  of  the  comic  Socrates  to  the  clouds.  In  short  it 
was  a  petticoated  mind,  floating  in  muslins,  swimming  in  gauzes, 
and  fluttering  with  gay  ribbons,  an  admirable  mind  to  bustle  and 
rustle  through  life  with,  if  life  were  a  conversazione,  or  the  world 
a  mere  Debating  Society. 


CHAPTER  IL 

MR.  MEDLICOTT  IS  CALLED  TO  THE  BAR. 

IN  one  respect,  however,  Mr.  Medlicott  did  not  fulfil  the  predic 
tions  of  those  who  best  knew  him,  for  he  was  called  to  the  bar  in 
due  season,  after  three  years  spent  in  in;iny  pursuits  very  loosely 
connected  with  the  law,  and  some  far  enough  removed  from  it. 
There  was  a  place  at  the  profession  for  him,  in  which,  with  very 
little  knowledge,  his  peculiar  talents  might  have  been  brought 
into  play  with  effect  and  profit. 

Those  only  who  understand  the  secrets  of  the  craft  are  able 
to  form  an  idea  with  how  small  a  pittance  of  legal  learning  the 
very  highest  honours  of  the  bar  are  attainable,  and  frequently 
attained  by  men  of  ordinary  acuteness,  shrewd  enough  to  hide 
their  ignorance,  and  confident  en*  jigh  to  make  the  best  use  of  the 
little  information  they  possess.  At  Nisi  Prius  especially,  with 


248  THE    UNIVERSAL    JGRNIUS  j 

plenty  of  tongue  for  the  jury,  and  a  few  points  of  nw  for  the 
court,  or  rather  to  impose  on  the  attorneys,  some  men  manage  to 
turn  their  brass  into  gold  rapidly.  The  "progress  of  a  lawyer" 
would  be  admirable  matter  for  a  satiric  poem.  A  very  useful  es 
say,  also,  might  be  written  upon  the  various  causes  both  of  suc 
cess  and  failure  in  the  profession,  upon  its  high-ways  and  bye- 
ways,  its  blanks  and  its  prizes,  the  marvellous  fortunes  of  a  few, 
and  the  rock's  that  many  split  on.  As  to  Mr.  Medlicott,  he  split 
not  upon  one  rock,  but  on  several — he  went  to  pieces  on  a 
reef. 

In  the  first  place  he  took  one  of  his  excessively  broad  views, 
and  aimed  at  being  a  constitutional  lawyer,  and  a  jurist  forsooth. 
He  filled  his  superb  book-cases  with  the  State  Trials  and  Rhy 
mer's  Faedera,  with  Montesquieu  and  Bentham,  Vattel  and  Gro- 
tius.  He  had  heard  of  the  study  of  the  English  law  narrowing 
the  mind,  and  being  determined  that  his  own  at  least  should  not 
be  narrowed  by  it,  he  paid  considerable  attention  to  the  law  of 
nations,  and  the  Code  Napoleon.  Nor  was  he  content  with  thus 
expanding  his  faculties  in  the  privacy  of  his  chambers ;  he  made 
al!  his  acquaintance  fully  aware  of  the  range  of  his  researches; 
the  1  'andects  were  his  table-talk ;  he  harangued  upon  the  casus 
belli,  until  he  got  the  nickname  of  Puffendorf ;  and  just  about 
t'.o  time  that  he  bought  his  wig  and  formally  presented  himself 
to  j!  o  public  as  a  practising  barrister,  he  not  only  published  a  big 
p;ii!ij>hlet  on  "Codification,  but  talked  at  large  wherever  he  went 
of  a  design  of  editing  Vattel. 

Should  the  reader,  unacquainted  with  such  matters,  be  at  a 
loss  to  understand  the  propriety  of  these  studies,  undertakings, 
and  proceedings,  considering  Mr.  Mt-dlicott's  declared  professional 
views,  it  will  assist  his  perceptions  to  imagine  the  Duke  of  Wel 
lington  in  the  peninsular  war  devoting  himself  to  the  geology  of 
Spain,  or  Professor  Airy,  during  a  transit  of  Venus,  engrossed 
with  the  last  new  novel. 

The  pamphlet  on  Codification,  however,  brought  its  author 
into  connexion  with  a  law-bookseller,  named  Trevor,  who  was 
mightily  taken  with  Mr.  Medlicott,  and  did  all  in  his  power  to 
serve  him. 

Mr.  Trevor  had  a  box  at  Hampstead,  where  Reuben  soon  be 
came  a  regular  guest  on  Sundays,  when  there  was  always  a  social 
little  audience,  partly  literary,  partly  legal,  assembled  round  a  com 
fortable  dinner  to  listen  to  his  dissertations  on  the  "  casus  belli." 
Between  two  of  the  habitues  of  this  house,  a  proctor  named 


Olt,  THE  COMING  MAN.  249 

Fox,  and  an  attorney  of  the  name  of  Reynard,  Mr.  Medlu  »tt 
was  somewhat  in  the  position  of  Lucian  in  his  dream,  with  art 
and  literature  pulling  him  in  opposite  directions.  The  proctor 
wanted  to  entice  him  into  the  Arches  Court,  and  urged  him  to 
take  a  doctor's  degree ;  the  attorney  was  equally  bent  upon 
"  marking  him  for  his  own,"  and  securing  him  exclusively  for 
Nisi  Priiis. 

Sometimes  Mr.  Fox  would  get  him  all  to  himself,  and  almost 
persuade  him  to  enter  the  lists  with  Lushington ;  again  the  at 
torney  would  have  the  advantage,  in  the  other's  absence,  and 
Reubui  would  persevere  in  his  design  of  disputing  the  palm  with 
Scarlett.  Mr.  Reynard,  however,  it  was  observable  (being  a 
man  of  more  prudence  than  sincerity),  though  he  put  down  some 
thousands  as  a  moderate  calculation  of  Mr.  Medlicott's  probable 
income  in  a  few  years,  allowed  term  after  term  to  pass,  without 
sending  him  a  single  guinea  from  his  own  office. 

In  one  respect,  it  must  be  admitted,  Mr.'Medlicott's  acquaint 
ance  with  Mr.  Trevor  was  a  humiliating  one.  Instead  of  bring 
ing  him  celebrity,  it  brought  him  nothing  but  sordid  money. 
Mr.  Trevor  not  only  dissuaded  him  from  his  edition  of  Vattel, 
which  would  have  been  a  pure  addition  to  his  fame,  but  he  threw 
some  humdrum  business  in  his  way,  which  was  not  merely  profit 
able,  but  calculated  to  advance  him  in  the  vulgar  and  plodding 
track  of  the  profession.  The  first  job  put  a  hundred  guineas  in 
his  purse,  the  second  and  third  still  larger  sums ;  between  the 
three  he  netted  upwards  of  five  hundred  pounds,  which  Mr. 
Trevor  thought  a  very  good  thing  for  a  briefless  barrister,  particu 
larly  as  the  employment  was  of  that  kind  which  tended  to  attract 
briefs,  instead  of  repelling  them. 

But  Mr.  Medlicott  himself  was  inexpressibly  disgusted  at  such 
success.  Doing  well,  indeed,  but  in  what  a  paltry  and  obscure 
way  !  No  applause,  no  distinction — a  name  like  his  on  the  title- 
page  of  a  book  of  practice ;  he  felt  his  mind  growing  narrow 
already  ;  his  five  hundred  gave  him  no  satisfaction;  it  weighed 
clown  his  spirits  while  it  weighed  down  his  pockets ;  in  fine,  he 
magnanimously  determined  (encouraged  most  probably  in  his 
noble  resolution,  not  only  by  his  mother's  letters,  but  by  his  aunt's 
remittances)  that  he  would  go  through  no  more  of  such  base, 
servile  drudgery,  for  any  pecuniary  consideration.  The  earnest 
ness  of  this  declaration  was  soon  tested.  Trevor  made  another 
offer,  and  still  more  favourable  than  the  preceding  ones.  Mr. 
Medlicott  declined  it,  and  Trevor  never  troubled  him  again  with 
11* 


250  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

propositions  of  the  kind.  Dining  the  same  day  at  the  Temple, 
Mr.  Medlicott  vaingloriously  related  his  refusal  to  work  any  more 
for  the  law-booksellers ;  several  of  his  friends  applauded  him 
loudly,  some  shook  their  heads  dubiously,  and  one  plain-spoken 
man,  more  good-humoureclly  than  politely,  told  him  he  was  a 
fool.  The  next  morning,  one  of  the  friends  who  had  been  fore 
most  in  commending  him  for  scorning  to  be  a  bookseller's  hack, 
called  on  him  in  his  chambers,  and  begged  an  introduction  to 
Mr.  Trevor,  confessing  that  he  was  a  poor  fellow,  under  the  ne 
cessity  of  putting*  his  pride  in  his  pocket,  and  prepared  to  do  so, 
if  the  publisher  would  employ  him,  even  for  a  much  smaller  sum 
than  had  been  offered  Medlicott.  Reuben  was  now  in  the  proud 
position  of  a  patron  of  industry,  and  very  frankly  and  generously 
did  he  perform  the  duties  of  that  office,  flattering  himself  with 
the  notion  that  he  was  not  less  industrious,  but  only  more  ambi 
tious,  than  the  honest  poor  fellow  who  stepped  into  his  shoes. 

In  the  same  elevated  frame  of  mind,  lie  disdained  to  cultivate 
the  attorneys.  Mr.  Trevor,  who  continued  to  wish  him  well,  gave 
him  more  than  one  hint  to  take  his  friend  Reynard  down  to 
Greenwich  in  the  white-bait  season,  but  Mr.  Medlicott  not  only 
neglected  the  suggestion,  but  actually  went  out  of  his  way  to 
entertain  the  Proctor,  which  was  the  most  superfluous  hospitality 
in  the  world. 

He  made,  however,  some  useful  acquaintances,  without 
courting  them :  he  met  a  few  attorneys  here  and  there,  in  the 
chambers  of  his  friends,  or  up  and  down  the  world,  and  stole 
the  hearts  of  one  or  two  of  them,  without  the  least  deliberate  in 
tention  of  committing  such  petty  larceny.  Thus  the  guineas 
did,  in  process  of  time,  begin  to  flow  in — not  in  an  actual  Pac- 
tolus,  certainly,  but  in  a  pretty  little  sparkling  streamlet,  very 
agreeable  to  contemplate,  and  wonderfully  interesting  for  a  sea 
son  even  to  the  young  lawyer  himself,  though  Mammon  had 
never  a  much  less  devoted  servant. 

When  the  rumour  that  he  was  making  money  crept  into  the 
provinces,  and  got  as  far  as  Chichester,  it  made  a  prodigious  sen 
sation  among  his  relatives  and  friends  there,  gratified  even  his 
mother  (wondrous  to  tell),  but  pleased  nobody  more  than  Mr. 
Broad,  who  multiplied  every  guinea  in  his  imagination  by  ten, 
and  even  by  larger  multipliers,  until  he  began  already  to  fancy 
Reuben  very  near  the  top  of  the  ladder,  and  a  dangerous  rival 
to  the  chiefs  of  the  bar. 

Mr.  Medlicott's  fee-book  showed  that  he  received  fifty  guineas 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  251 

in  his  first  year  of  practice,  nearly  twice  that  amount  in  the 
second,  and  the  third  year  he  realised  a  sum  w:  ich,  with  some 
money  that  remained  over  from  his  transactions  with  Trevor, 
amounted  to  about  a  thousand  pounds,  which,  acting  on  the  ad 
vice  of  Mr.  Trevor,  he  invested  in  certain  Brazilian  mines,  con 
sidered  at  that  time  an  eligible  speculation. 

This  was  palpable  success,  and  the  more  remarkable  as  the 
success  of  a  man  who  seemed  to  be  prospering  in  spite  of  him 
self;  for  lie  considered  the  business  which  came  to  his  share  as  a 
junior  rather  derogatory  to  him  than  otherwise — spoke  of  it  with 
supreme  contempt,  and  went  throug1'  it  with  an  air  of  supercili 
ousness,  as  if  he  scorned  to  be  employed  except  in  weighty 
causes.  A  little  avarice  mixed  with  lieu  ben's  ambition  would 
have  made  a  better  working  metal  of  it;  but  he  cared  much  too 
little  for  money,  particularly  for  money  obscurely  earned  in  King's 
Bench  Walk,  without  reputation,  and  without  even  newspaper 
notoriety.  The  fastidiousness  with  which  he  accepted  business 
was  enough  of  itself  to  prevent  its  rapid  accumulation.  The  at 
torneys  were  not  over-anxious  to  employ  a  man  who  was  osten 
tatiously  indifferent  whether  he  was  employed  or  not;  and  he 
that  disdains  his  work,  or  takes  it  in  hand  squeamishly  or  lan 
guidly,  is  not  likely  to  execute  it  either  with  care  or  punctuality. 
Reuben  lost  one  attorney  by  not  keeping  time ;  another  by  not 
keeping  to  his  instructions ;  a  third  by  not  keeping  to  himself 
the  contempt  he  entertained  for  the  formalities  and  prolixities  of 
the  profession.  The  most  perverse  of  all  his  complaints  was  his 
objection  to  prolixity,  which  he  was  only  averse  to  when  it  was 
in  the  way  of  his  vocation,  and  tended  to  put  money  in  his 
purse. 


CHAPTER  HI. 

A   RIVAL   OEATOE. 

BUT  his  forensic  career  was  distinguished  by  something  more 
whimsical  still  than  even  his  perverse  dislike  for  that  prolixity 
which  was  in  his  day  as  much  the  soul  of  law,  as  brevity  has 
been  said  to  be  the  soul  of  wit.  There  was  one  skort,  very  short, 
peiiod  of  Mr.  Medlicott's  life,  in  which  (extraordinary  to  relate)  he 
conceived  an  actual  aversion  to  the  exercises  of  that  faculty  which, 


252  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS) 

in  him,  predominated  over  all  other  endowments ; — a  parei  thesis 
of  his  existence  when  a  spirit  of  silence  obtained  temporary*mas- 
tery  over  him,  which,  if  it  had  kept  its  ground,  might  have  de 
graded  him  into  a  common-place  sensible  man,  and  a  mere  use 
ful  working  member  of  society.  Most  whimsically  did  it  happen 
that  this  quarrel  with  hi  •>  tongue,  as  it  were,  occurred  while  lie 
was  at  the  bar,  which  is  not  usually  the  profession  that  leads  men 
to  talk  less  than  they  are  disposed  to  talk  by  nature.  A  circum 
stance,  however,  happened,  which  for  a  time  thoroughly  dis 
gusted  Reuben  with  rhetorical  exhibitions.  He  had  attended 
Professor  Chattel-ton's  course  oi  lectures  on  pulpit  oratory,  and 
with  such  satisfactory  results,  as  he  believed,  that  he  now  resolved 
to  give  himself  the  benefit  of  that  gentleman's  instructions  to  law 
yers,  and  for  that  purpose  returned  to  the  school  of  eloquence  in 
Leicester  Square,  and  enrolled  himself  again  among  its  pupils. 
Having  attended  the  public  c-airse,  and  still  fancying  himself  not 
quite  perfect  in  some  points  of  importnncein  addressing  juries,  Mr. 
Medlicott  continued  to  avail  himself  privately  of  the  Professor's 
services  tor  some  time  longer.  One  day?  arriving  before  his  ap 
pointed  hour,  he  was  under  the  necessity  of  waiting  in  an  ante 
room,  while  Mr.  Chatterton  was  concluding  a  lesson  which  he 
was  giving  to  another  pupil  in  the  adjoining  apartment.  The 
declamation  was  loud  enough  to  be  distinctly  heard  through  walls 
and  doors  twice  as  thick  as  those  which  separated  the  chambers. 
Not  many  moments  elapsed  beiore  Reuben's  oar  caught  the  name 
of  Coriolantis.  He  smiled  to  recollect  his  own  juvenile  effort  on 
that  theme,  and  listened  with  some  curiosity  to  the  harangue  on 
the  same  subject  which  the  unseen  orator  was  vociferating  with 
most  stentorian  lungs,  occasionally  interrupted  by  the  Professor's 
remarks  and  repetitions.  Soon  a  sublime  figure  of  rhetoric  oc 
curred,  which  was  decidedly  "  his  own  thunder."  Presently  he 
recognised  a  second  gem  filched  from  his  casket.  Then  a  third, 
his  own  property,  if  he  had  a  right  to  anything.  Before  he  had 
been  listening  for  five  minutes,  he  discovered  that  it  was  actually 
his  own  old  speech,  image  for  image,  and  word  for  word,  which 
was  shaking  the  house  to  its  foundations.  This  diverted,  sur 
prised,  and  puzzled  him  extremely.  Who  could  the  orator  be, 
and  how  could  anybody  have  got  possession  of  the  speech? 
Reuben  knew  the  very  press  in  his  mother's  room  at  Underwood, 
and  the  very  shelf,  where  the  only  existing  copy  of  it  was  depo 
sited,  among  many  other  such  literary  treasures.  While  still  he 
wondered,  the  storm  of  elocution  suddenly  ceased,  the  lecture  was 


OK,  THE   COMING  MAN.  253 

over,  and  the  thunderer  having  retired  by  the  usual  private  pas 
sage,  Professor  Chatterton  entered  the  room  where  Reuben  was 
waiting  to  take  his  turn. 

Reuben  congratulated  him  upon  the  proficiency  of  his  pupil 
who  had  just  departed. 

"  Ah,  that  is  a  prodigy,"  said  the  professor.  "  Excepting  your 
self,  sir,  he  promises  to  do  me  more  credit  than  any  gentleman  f 
ever  had  the  honour  of  instructing." 

"  Is  he  intended  for  the   church,  or  the  bar  ?"   asked  M 
Medlicott. 

"  Neither,"  said  Chatterton  ;  "  he  is  cultivating  eloquence  purely 
for  its  own  sake.  He  possesses  the  talent,  and  he  has  the  laud 
able  ambition  to  improve  it.  Indeed,  he  is  in  a  profession 
where  it  cannot  be  of  much  practical  use  to  him, — he  is  a 
doctor." 

"  I  suppose  his  name  is  a  secret — I  wouldn't  ask  you  to 
rereaHt  for  the  world." 

"  Well,"  quoth  the  Professor,  "  as  a  general  rule,  I  am  as 
secret  as  the  Inquisition,  but  in  this  case  I  feel  myself  free,  espe 
cially  with  you, — it's  a  droll  name  enough — Doctor  Pigwid- 
geon." 

So  diametrically  opposed  to  one  another  were  the  ideas  of 
Pigwidgeon  and  oratory,  that  Reuben  would  never  have  thought 
of  him,  of  all  the  doctors  in  England,  although  it  was  now  so 
easy  to  understand  how  he  had  come  by  the  speech  on  Corio- 
lanus.  A  few  days  later  he  met  the  Professor  in  the  street,  and 
was  invited  to  go  with  him  in  the  evening  to  attend  a  meeting 
of  the  Cicero  Club,  of  which  the  eloquent  doctor  was  a  member, 
and  where  upon  that  night  he  was  expected  to  make  a  grand 
display  of  his  powers,  upon  one  of  the  exciting  questions  of  the 
hour.  Reuben's  curiosity  induced  him  to  consent,  provided  he 
could  maintain  a  strict  incognito,  which  Chatterton  satisfied  him 
would  bo  easily  managed,  the  arrangements  of  the  place  being 
favourable  to  it.  Accordingly,  enveloped  in  an  ample  cloak,  and 
with  his  hat  pulled  sufficiently  down  over  his  eyes,  Reuben  ac 
companied  Mr.  Chatterton  to  the  Cicero  at  the  proper  hour,  and 
further  to  elude  observation,  took  his  seat  on  the  bench  behind 
the  Professor,  in  the  gallery  set  apart  for  strangers.  Long  before 
Doctor  Pigwidgeon  spoke,  it  was  obvious  that  he  was  the  orator 
par  excellence  of  the  society.  He  looked  the  leader,  every  inch  ; 
and  swaggered  about  the  room,  like  O'Connell  at  the  Corn  Ex 
change,  or  Henry  Hunt  in  Covent  Garden.  There  was  bluster  in 


254  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

his  face,  even  when  lie  was  not  speaking ;  he  laughed,  cheered, 
coughed,  and  even  listened  like  a  bully.  Proud  was  the  Prot'es- 
sor  to  see  with  his  own  eyes  how  great  his  pupil  was  among  the 
Ciceronians ;  but  when  be  rose  to  speak,  he  astonished  Reuben 
himself  by  his  prodigious  command  of  words,  and  the  ceaseless 
torrent  with  which  he  poured  them  forth.  The  abundance  was 
so  overwhelming,  that  several  minutes  elapsed  before  the  severest 
auditor  could  have  discovered  the  almost  total  absence  of  all 
rational  drift  in  the  discourse.  There  was  in  Pigwidgeon's  oratory 
none  of  that  false  show  of  argument,  none  of  those  pretty  decep 
tive  half-meanings,  none  of  that  radiant  mist  of  language  (in  itself 
elegant  and  pleasing  to  both  the  ear  and  the  fancy),  which  made 
Mr.  Medlicott's  eloquence  pass  current  even  with  many  persons 
of  superior  education.  The  Doctor  was  literally  "  vox  et  preterea 
nihil ;"  there  was  the  mist  without  the  least  sparkle  in  it ;  the 
merest  bray  that  was  ever  mistaken  for  rhetoric,  for  in  fact  (as 
Reuben  well  knew)  the  fellow  had  neither  common  sense,  Snow- 
ledge,  or  imagination,  notwithstanding  all  that  had  been  done 
for  his  mental  development.  Yet,  without  one  of  these  qualities, 
he  made  the  foremost  figure  in  his  club ;  the  close  of  every  period, 
no  matter  how  barren  of  all  appreciable  signification,  was  received 
with  the  most  painful  explosions  of  applause,  to  such  a  degree  that 
Tully  himself  could  not  possibly  have  been  more  admired,  if 
indeed  the  true  orator  could  have  escaped  being  coughed  down 
by  the  audience  that  extolled  Doctor  Pigwidgeon.  All  this 
disgusted  Reuben  beyond  conception ;  particularly  when  he  ob 
served  how  carefully  the  Doctor  availed  himself  of  the  Professor's 
instructions,  and  with  what  delight  and  triumph  that  great  master 
of  elocution  witnessed  the  successful  application  of  his  precepts 
to  practice.  So  elated  was  Chatterton,  that  at  the  end  of  the 
speech  he  attracted  the  Doctor's  notice  by  the  extravagance  of 
his  complimentary  demonstrations.  In  a  moment  the  pupil  was 
in  the  Professor's  arms ;  and  the  reader  must  only  imagine  De 
mosthenes,  after  one  of  his  mightiest  victories,  in  the  embraces 
of  Isseus,  or  Isocrates,  whichever  had  the  honour  of  instructing 
him,  that  point  being  undecided.  For  Reuben  now  to  escape 
recognition  was  impossible,  despite  of  all  his  precautions.  Chat 
terton  was  as  much  delighted  as  surprised  to  find  that  the 
two  pupils  he  was  most  proud  of  were  old  acquaintances  and 
friends,  for  indeed  the  Doctor  could  not  have  testified  more  rap 
ture  .it.  meeting  Reuben,  had  they  been  brothers.  A  difficult 
thin^,  i  was  to  bestow  the  commendation  upon  that  speech  which 


OK,  THE  COMING  MAN.  255 

the  young  doctor  expected,  and  the  young  lawyer  ctiuld  not  de 
cently  withhold.  Reuben  did  his  best  under  the  circumstances, 
but  it  was  done  so  hesitatingly,  and  with  such  manifest  repug 
nance,  as  naturally  enough  to  suggest  the  idea  that  he  grudged 
Pigwidgeon  the  laurels  with  which  he  was  compelled  to  wreath 
his  brow,  or,  in  other  words,  that  the  wonderful  effort  he  had 
witnessed  had  excited  in  his  breast  the  passion  of  envy.  Whether 
Chatterton  suspected  this,  or  not,  he  thought  of  nothing  now  but 
closing  the  night  with  a  festivity  worthy  of  its  commencement, 
and  for  this  purpose  he  invited  his  pupils  to  a  supper  at  a  cele 
brated  tavern  in  the  neighbourhood.  Pigwidgeon  embraced  the 
offer  as  warmly  as  he  had  embraced  R.uben,  but  to  the  taste  of 
the  latter,  the  notion  of  supping  with  the  Doctor  was  even  more 
revolting  than  the  necessity  of  complimenting  his  rhetoric ;  so, 
declining  the  invitation  with  an  abruptness  and  haughtiness  of 
manner  well  calculated  to  offend  both  Chatterton  and  Pigwidgeon, 
he  folded  himself  again  in  his  mantle,  and,  with  an  ill-timed  dis 
play  of  dignity,  stalked  out  of  the  gallery. 

The  Cicero  club  was  just  the  hospital  to  cure  the  worst  case 
of  the  cacoethes  loquendi  that  ever  existed,  on  the  principle 
which  Lycurgus  adopted  when  he  made  the  Helots .  tipsy  to 
instil  the  love  of  sobriety  into  the  youth  of  Sparta ;  and  the 
warning  might  possibly  have  been  effective,  if  Mr.  Medlicott's 
vanity  had  permitted  him  to  weigh  himself  in  the  same  scale 
with  Pigwidgeon  even  for  a  moment ;  so  as  to  perceive  what  was 
really  in  common  between  them,  namely,  the  enormous  prepon 
derance  of  sound  over  sense  in  the  eloquence  of  both.  As  it  was, 
however,  the  gift  of  speech  fell  for  some  time,  in  Reuben's 
estimation,  in  consequence  of  what  has  been  related ;  and  while 
this  fit  was  on  him,  nobody  inveighed  so  copiously  as  he  did  in 
private  society  upon  the  misrule  of  the  tongue,  often  talking 
against  talking  until  nobody  was  left  to  talk  to  at  the  table. 

However,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  with  respect  to  Dr. 
Pigwidgeon,  Mr.  Medlicott  had  not  acted  handsomely,  or  with 
the  magnanimity  which  became  his  pretensions  to  superior 
abilities.  Had  the  Doctor  been  a  more  complete  and  accom 
plished  booby  than  nature  and  art  had  combined  to  make  him, 
Reuben  ought  not  to  have  objected  to  meet  him  at  supper, 
particularly  as  he  was  his  townsman,  and  owed  his  intellectual 
development,  such  as  it  was,  to  the  identical  source  of  his  own 
genius.  Are  we  never  to  eat  oysters  and  broiled  kidneys  save 
with  men  of  our  own  intellectual  stature  or  calibre,  measured, 


256  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

too,  by  the  private  rule  which  each  of  us  carries  in  his  pocket  ? 
A  pleasant  society  it  would  ho  to  live  in,  if  it  were  to  be  torn  to 
pieces  with  intellectual  distinctions,  as  well  as  with  political  and 
religious  ones ;  if  knowledge  and  ignorance  were  to  refuse  to 
associate,  and  talent  and  duiness  were  not  to  tolerate  one 
another,  even  over  a  llask  of  wine.  Dunce,  however,  as  Dr. 
Pigwidgeon  was,  he  was  a  star  in  his  own  sphere,  and  not  one 
of  the  third  magnitude.  Jle  told  the  Professor  his  simple  story 
that  night,  over  the  broiled  kidneys.  From  the  day  that  he  read 
Reuben's  speech  on  Coriolanus  aloud  from  the  fork  of  the  pear- 
tree  in  the  garden  of  Underwood,  an  ambition  to  become  an 
orator  had  possessed  him  ;  but  for  a  considerable  length  of  time, 
as  Milton  said  of  Cromwell,  "  he  nursed  his  great  spirit  in  silence," 
feeding  it  principally  with  the  incessant  study  of  Reuben's  ora 
tions,  which  he  borrowed  from  Mrs.  Medlicott,  and,  to  fasten 
them  on  his  memory,  copied  out  repeatedly,  with  the  same 
ardour  for  self-improvement  which  led  Demosthenes  to  pay  the 
writings  of  Thucydides  a  similar  honour.  Then,  although  he  had 
no  natural  defect  of  utterance,  he  commenced  a  course  of  pebbles 
on  a  solitary  part  of  the  beach ;  but  he  did  not  continue  the 
system  long,  for,  as  he  told  Mr.  Chatterton,  the  pebbles  hurt  his 
teeth,  and  rather  impeded  his  pronunciation  than  assisted  it. 

"Perhaps,"  said  the  Professor,  "the  pebbles  you  tried  were 
too  large. for  your  mouth." 

"Possibly  they  were,"  said  the  Doctor;  "but  at  all  events 
they  did  not  answer.  I  found  more  benefit  from  fancying  the 
cabbages  in  our  garden  an  audience,  and  addressing  them  as 
loud  as  I  could  shout!" 

"  Trees  would  have  been  better,"  said  the  Professor ;  "  I 
always  recommend  trees,  or  if  trees  are  not  convenient,  holly 
hocks,  or  artichokes.  However,  you  don't  want  that  sort  of  thing 
now." 

"No,"  said  Pigwiclgeon  ;  "but  let  me  tell  you  what  I  did 
next.  I  got  my  sisters,  and  cousins,  and  their  school-fellows,  a 
dozen  of  them  or  so,  into  a  room  at  the  top  of  the  house — 
sometimes  into  a  hay-loft,  and  I  placed  them  all  in  a  row,  or  in 
two  rows ;  then  1  mounted  a  chair  opposite  to  them,  and  went 
on  just  as  you  heard  me  to-night,  only  not  so  fluent,  for  I  was 
only  beginning,  you  know." 

"  Rome  was  not  built  in  a  day,"  said  Chatterton. 

"  You  may  well  say  that,"  said  the  Doctor ;  "  but  it  was  a  very 
good  idea,  I  think,  and  1  improved  it  afterwards  by  teaching 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAX.  257 

them  to  cry  'hear,' ami  'spoke,  spoke;'  sometimes  they  had 
cougho ;  and  I  often  gave  them  full  permission  to  try  to  put  me 
down  in  every  possible  way,  hut  they  never  were  able  to  do  it." 

"  Capital  practice  for  the  House,"  said  the  Professor. 

"  I  used  often  to  repeat  the  ?peech  of  young  Norval,"  added 
the  Doctor, — "'  My  name  is  Norval  on  the  Grampian  hills,'  you 
know." 

The  Professor  suggested  the  propriety  oi  making  a  pause  at 
the  Norval,  and  told  him  the  story  of  the  actor  in  Dublin  who 
adopted  the  Doctor's  reading,  whereupon  a  wag  in  the  galleries 
called  out,  "And  what  the  deuce  is  your  name  in  Patrick 
Street?" 

The  Doctor  laughed  very  long  and  loud,  and  after  taking  a 
note  of  the  improved  reading,  said, 

"  I'll  tell  you  a  very  odd  thing, — my  grandmother  was  an 
Irish  woman,  one  of  the  Beamishes  of  Cork — if  she  wasn't  a 
Beamish,  she  was  a  Murphy." 

"You  will  be  coming  in  for  an  Irish  borough  one  of  these 
days,"  said  the  master  of  rhetoric. 

The  Doctor  heaved  a  profound  sigh,  pleaded  guilty  to  a 
hankering  after  senatorial  honours,  and  alluded  pathetically  to 
the  closeness  of  a  rich  old  father  he  had,  which  had  always  stood 
in  the  way  of  his  advancement.  But  he  was  not  without  hopes, 
he  added,  that  the  old  fellow  might  be  induced  to  come  dowp 
with  a  few  thousands  for  a  borough  at  the  next  general"  election, 
which  he  understood  was  not  very  far  off. 

Mr.  Medlicott  lost  this  and  much  more  of  the  like  curious  dis 
course,  by  not  accepting  the  Professor's  invitation  to  supper. 
What  followed  would,  of  course,  not  have  met  his  ear, — probably 
would  not  have  passed  at  all. 

The  Professor  asked  Pigwidgeon  what  his  private  opinion  of 
Reuben  was,  as  he  had  known  him  so  long,  and  was  so  intimate 
with  him. 

"  Well,  he  is  a  deuced  clever  fellow,  I  won't  deny,"  replied  the 
Doctor,  "  though  he  is  not  such  a  prodigy  as  his  family  take  him 
i<  r ;  they  think  he  is  the  greatest  genius  that  this  country  ever 
produced;  I  am  told  they  talk  of  him  as  'the  coming  man,' 
whatever  they  mean  by  that." 

"Always  coming,  but  never  comes,"  said  the  Professor, 
hitting  off  happily  enough  the  contrast  between  Mr.  Medlicott'a 
promise  and  performance  in  every  stage  of  his  career. 

"  Don't  you  think  him  a  coxcomb?"  said  the  Doctor. 


258  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

"  A  confounded  coxcomb,"  said  Chatterton. 

The  conversation  ended  in  Pigwidgeon  asking  the  Professor 
what  he  sincerely  thought  of  Mr.  Medlicott's  style  of  eloquence, 

"  I'll  tell  you  candidly,"  said  Chatterton  ;  "  he  is  not  fit  to 
hold  a  candle  to  you,  and  if  ever  you  are  both  in  the  House  of 
Commons  together,  and  pitted  against  one  another,  which  is  not 
an  unlikely  event  in  these  stirring  times,  you  will  beat  him  to 
stock-fish,  if  you  only  mind  my  instructions." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MB.    MEDMCOTT    SYMPATHISES    W1TTT   THE    POLES,    AND   IS   NATtTEALLT 
LED    FKOM    ONi:    SYMPATHY    TO    ANOTHER. 

IN  consequence  chiefly  of  the  brief  revolution  in  taste  mentioned 
in  the  last  chapter.  Mr  Medlicott  was  actually  in  somo  little  dan 
ger  at  this  period  of  being  confounded  with  the  common  herd 
of  working  lawyers,  to  whom  Chancery  Lane  is  the  world,  and 
a  bigger  wig  the  summit  of  human  ambition.  A  few  friends 
stuck  to  him  through  thick  and  thin,  and  the  horrors  of  profes 
sional  success  were  almost  beginning  to  stare  him  in  the  face, 
when  he  was  opportunely  seized  with  another  of  his  paroxysms 
of  genius,  in  the  form  of  a  violent  sympathy  with  the  cause  of 
Poland. 

We  have  been  rather  neglectful  of  Mr.  Medlicott's  social  ex 
istence  and  experiences  for  some  time  back,  hoping  the  reader 
would  kindly  presume  that  dinners  and  balls  went  on  as  usmd, 
and  that  a  respectable  list  of  good  houses  in  the  proper  streets 
and  squares  were  ambitious  of  the  honour  of  receiving  the  com 
ing  man,  if  not"  always  successful  in  securing  him  as  their  guest. 
Let  it  not  be  supposed  'Jiat  he  persisted  obstinately  in  that  hos 
tility  to  the  practice  of  dining,  which  had  formerly  distressed 
some  of  his  best  friends,  particularly  the  convivial  Mr.  De  Tab- 
ley.  Mr.  Medlicott  resumed  the  knife  and  fork  soon  after  he 
joined  the  bar,  and  not  only  frequented  those  tables  where  he 
was  duly  appreciated,  but  gave  a  dinner  now  and  then  in  his 
own  chambers,  or  invited  a  select  party  of  agreeable  listeners  to 
Lovegrove's,  or  the  Star  and  Garter.  His  chambers  were  fur 
nished  only  too  handsomely  for  a  man  of  his  means  and  stand- 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  259 

ing.  Mrs.  Mountjoy  had  insisted  on  transferring  .0  them  all  the 
articles  of  luxury  which  she  had  accumulated  for  his  use  in  her 
lodgings  in  Burlington  Gardens,  the  cosy  chairs,  the  comfortable 
sofas,  and  even  the  spacious  looking-glass  in  which  Goliath  of 
Gath  might  have  surveyed  himself  from  top  to  toe,  had  his  giant- 
ship  lived  in  the  age  of  mirrors,  or  had  mirrors  existed  in  the 
days  of  giants.  The  Barsacs  had  frowned  on  him,  ever  since  his 
grandfather  did  so,  but  this  littleness  of  theirs  Reuben  was  so  far 
from  stooping  to  resent,  that  meeting  the  consequential  merchant 
one  day  in  Fleet  Street,  he  carelessly  extended  him  a  finger,  and 
asked  him  to  dine  the  following  day,  to  meet  Lord  Appleby. 
Barsac  would  have  bristled  like  a  porcupine  at  such  an  informal 
invitation,  prrticularly  from  such  a  quarter,  if  the  name  of  the 
peer  had  not  effectually  stifled  every  unchristian  feeling  within 
him.  To  meet  Lord  Appleby,  however,  was  a  most  agreeable 
prospect,  and  having  had  that  privilege,  it  was  incumbent  on  him 
to  return  Mr.  Medlicott's  dinner,  which  he  did  shortly  after.  Mr. 
Medlicott  went  to  Portland  Place,  and  met  a  distinguished  com 
pany,  among  whom  was  Lord  Maudlin,  a  nobleman,  conspicuous 
at  that  time  (as  more  eminent  nobleman  have  been  since)  for  his 
zeal  in  behalf  of  the  Poles,  and  patron  of  a  society  for  sympa 
thising  with  that  suffering  nation.  Barsac  had  invited  the  secre 
tary  of  the  society  on  the  same  day,  as  a  delicate  compliment,  no 
doubt,  to  my  Lord  Maudlin  ;  and  the  secretary  (a  gentleman  with, 
a  black  moustache,  and  a  name  ending  with  "  inski"),  having  had 
the  good  fortune  to  be  placed  beside  Mr.  Medlicott  at  dinner,  an 
acquaintanceship  commenced  between  them,  which  grew  first 
into  intimacy,  and  afterwards  ripened  into  sympathy  before  long. 
Mr.  Barsac  himself  sympathised  with  the  Pole.-,  that  is  to  say,  he 
invited  the  secretary  to  dinner,  whenever  Lord  Maudlin  honoured 
him  ;  but  the  merchant  was  not  so  devoted  to  Poland  as  to  sac 
rifice  to  her  cause  either  his  time  or  much  of  his  money.  Mr. 
Medlicott  was  not  long  without  setting  him  an  example  of  sym 
pathising  with  spirit.  He  introduced  the  secretary  to  many  of 
his  friends,  and  among  others  to  Trevor,  the  bookseller,  who  en 
listed  him  occasionally  for  his  Sunday  parties  at  Hampstead.  Mr. 
Medlicott  walked  into  town,  one  fine  evening,  with  the  represen 
tative  of  Poland,  and  discoursed  himself  into  a  fever  upon  her 
history,  and  her  wrongs.  The  Pole,  a  man  of  business  and  a 
capital  secretary,  determined  to  strike  while  the  iron  was  hot,  as 
the  saying  is ;  so,  pulling  out  of  his  pocket  a  list  of  recent  sub 
scriptions,  he  excited  Reuben's  indignation  by  showing  him  the 


260  THE    UNIVERSAL     GENIUS  j 

names  of  two  such  wealthy  men  as  Mr.  Barsac  and  Mr.  Leaden- 
hall,  who  were  the  paltry'  contributors  of  no  more  than  a  few 
guineas  each.  Mr.  Medlicott.  with  one  of  Professor  Chattel-ton's 
electric  starts,  seized  the  paper,  and  by  the  light  of  a  lamp  at 
the  corner  of  Tottenham  Court  Road,  where  it  meets  the  New 
Road,  he  wrote  his  name  down  for  fifty  pounds ;  and  before  he 
reached  Holborn  he  suffered  himself,  after  some  little  coy  resist 
ance,  to  be  persuaded  to  move  a  resolution  at  the  next  public 
meeting,  which  was  very  soon  to  be  held. 

Fifty  pounds  was  a  munificent  subscription.  It  deserved  a 
conspicuous  announcement,  and  it  received  it.  The  newspapers 
complimented  Mr.  Medlicott  upon  his  well-timed  liberality,  and 
mentioned  him  among  the  noblemen  and  gentlemen  who  had 
promised  to  honour  with  their  presence,  and  adorn  with  their 
eloquence,  the  approaching  meeting  at  the  Freemasons'  Tavern. 

A  general  impression  prevailed  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Chi- 
chester,  particularly  in  the  parish  of  Underwood,  as  soon  as  these 
announcements  arrived  there,  that  Mr.  Medlicott  was  about  to 
compel  Russia  and  Austria  to  disgorge  their  several  shares  of  the 
plunder  of  Poland,  and  that  nothing  short  of  the  restoration  of 
that  country  to  a  glorious  place  among  the  independent  st;i,tes  of 
Europe  would  be  the  result  of  the  philippic  that  was  now  in 
preparation.  Mr.  Broad  resolved  to  go  up  to  town  to  hear  it, 
and  meanwhile  ran  about  the  streets  in  just  such  a  state  of  ex 
citement  as  you  may  fancy  a  cutler  of  Athens,  exhibiting  on  the 
eve  of  an  oration  of  Demosthenes,  to  be  followed  by  instant  war 
with  Macedon. 

"  He  will  make  the  despots  of  the  continent  look  about  them, 
sir;  he  will  make  the  tyrants  tremble." 

"  Much  the  despots  of  the  continent  will  trouble  themselves 
about  a  speech  at  the  Freemasons'  Tavern,  if  it  was  made  by 
Brougham  himself,"  said  the  Alderman. 

"I'm  not  of  your  way  of  thinking,  Alderman  Codd,"  said 
the  cutler  ;  "  though  making  swords  is  my  business,  and  though 
it  will  be  a  bad  day  for  me  when  swords  go  out  of  fashion,  I  have 
a  higher  opinion  of  eloquence,  sir,  than  of  the  best  sword  that 
ever  was  manufactured.  The  tryarits  hate  eloquence,  sir,  as  a 
certain  personage  hates  holy -water.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  an 
orator  at  St.  Petersburg,  or  in  the  Austrian  dominions  ? — answer 
me  that,  Alderman  Codd." 

u  Well,  then,  I  never  did,  to  be  candid  with  you,"  said  the 
Alderman, 


On,  TliE   COMING   M  tN.  261 

u  And  now,  Alderman,  let  me  crave  your  subscription  to  the 
cause  of  Poland,  for  I  want,  to  have  something  handsome  to 
hand  in  at  the  meeting  to  do  credit  to  our  city  and  our  distin 
guished  townsman." 

The  Alderman  shook  his  head,  laughed,  and  buttoned  up  his 
pockets. 

"  Come,  Aide:  man,  you  won't  have  it  said,  I  hope,"  said  Mr. 
Broad,  insinuatingly,  "that  you  are  in  the  Russian  interest ;  you 
would  not  like  people  to  say  that  ?" 

"  I  should  not  like  that,"  said  Alderman  Codd,  and  ended  by 
handing  the  cutler  a  couple  of  guineas,  which  was  all  he  could 
afford  the  Polish  cause  without  doing  his  family  injustice. 

Matthew  Cox,  who  was  always  generous  when  the  interests 
of  freedom  or  of  humanity  were  to  be  promoted,  subscribed 
handsomely  ,  Mr.  Oldport  and  Mrs.  Winning  did  so  likewise  ;  so 
that  Mr.  Broad  had  a  very  respectable  tribute  to  bring  up  with 
him  fr.om  Chichester,  which  had  never  before  distinguished  itself 
in  behalf  of  Poland.  Even  Mr.  Pigw'dgeon  put  his  name  down 
for  a  guinea,  but  he  never  paid  it — an  economical  way  of  sym 
pathising  practised  by  many  as  well  as  Mr.  Pigwidgeon. 

Meanwhile,  Reuben's  London  friends  were  equally  on  the 
qui  vive.  Mr.  Trevor  and  his  family  were  in  the  highest  state  of 
excitement*  so  were  the  Proctor,  the  Attorney — in  short,  every 
body  who  either,  knew  Mr.  Medlicott,  or  had  heard  the  whistling 
of  his  name.  The  Polish  Secretary  gave  a  breakfast  in  Golden 
Square  on  the  morning  of  this  second  great  demonstration.  Mr. 
Medlicott  was  to  have  been  present,  but  on  the  previous  evening 
he  was  surprised,  and  to  a  certain  extent  embarrassed  and  dis- 
concvrted,  by  the  arrival  of  a  large  party  from  Chichester,  con 
sisting  of  his  mother  and  the  two  Quakeresses,  under  the  escort 
of  Mr.  Broad.  The  Vicar  was  strongly  against  this  expedition, 
and  still  more  displeased  at  the  absurd  munificence  of  his  son. 
lie  wanted  to  know  what  Reuben  had  to  do  with  the  Poles. 
Mrs.  Medlicott  said  he  might  as  well  ask  what  he  had  to  do  with 
the  Protestants.  The  Vicar  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  wished, 
with  considerable  bitterness,  Reuben  would  let  both  Poles  and 
Protestants  alone,  and  attend  to  his  profession. 

Mr.  Broad  conducted  his  little  band  of  enthusiasts  to  the  old 
Black  Lion,  in  Whitefriars,  the  inn  which  he  patronised  when 
ever  he  travelled  to  town,  and  where  everything,  he  said,  was  al 
ways  tidy,  and  the  landlady  did  her  best  to  make  her  guests  snug 
and  comfortable.  It  may  have  been  so ;  but  the  Black  Lion  was 


262  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

nevertheless  an  odd  house  to  bring  Mrs.  Medlicott  to — a  quaint 
old  curiosity  of  a  place,  with  one  of  the  last  of  the  wooden  gal 
leries  running  round  the  yard,  and  altogether  as  queer  as  Mr. 
Broad  himself 

Reuben  gently  reproached  his  mother  for  putting  herself  to 
the  trouble  of  such  a  journey  for  such  an  object,  and  under  such 
a  singular  convoy  as  the  cutler.  And  so  old  a  woman  as  Han 
nah  Hopkins,  too, — to  think  of  her  incurring  such  fatigue,  and 
such  expense,  merely  to  hear  him  "  offer  a  few  remarks  at  a  pub 
lic  meeting" — for  so  Mr.  Medlicott  always  modestly  expressed 
himself,  when  he  was  about  to  make  some  particularly  elaborate 
oratorical  display.  His  mother  had  nothing  to  say  in  her  own 
defence,  except  that  she  would  not  have  missed  the  opportunity 
for  all  the  world,  as  Mr.  Broad  was  so  good  as  to  otiV-r  to  take 
care  of  her.  With  respect  to  the  Quakeresses,  Mr.  Cox,  as  usual, 
was  to  pay  their  little  expenses.  It  appeared  that  their  ardour 
for  the  expedition  had  been  uncontrollable  ;  the  idea  of  it  had 
even  cured  old  Hannah  of  a  fit  of  the  rheumatism.  It  was  more, 
however,  as  a  great  philanthropist  she  idolised  Reuben  than  for 
his  eloquence ;  Mary  Hopkins,  on  the  contrary,  though  philan 
thropic  also,  was  more  anxious  about  the  oratory  than  about  the 
cause.  It  was  to  gratify  her,  chiefly,  that  Mr.  Cox  had  oiferedto 
take  upon  himself  the  cost  of  the  journey. 

"  That  poor  girl's  passion  for  eloquence,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs. 
Medlicott,  "is  something  very  extraordinary." 

She  little  dreamed  that  the  fair  Mary's  breast  was,  and  had 
for  some  time  been,  the  seat  of  another  passion,  also;  one  that 
had  possessed  her  ever  since  the  meeting  at  Chichester,  and  might 
have  been  traced  back  to  the  tou'in  Walt's  ;  nay, probably  to  the 
still  earlier  days  when  she  and  Reuben  were  schoolfellows  and 
playmates.  •  But  nobody  could  have  helped  remarking  that  a  great 
change  had  taken  place  in  Mary  Hopkins.  She  was  neither  so 
fat  as  she  had  been  formerly,  nor  so  merry  either.  The  girlish 
laughter  for  which  she  had  been  noted  wherever  she*went,  had 
subsided  into  a  quieter  expression  of  delight.  But  if  she  was 
neither  so  gay  nor  so  plump,  she  atoned  for  it  by  being  decidedly 
handsomer;  a  more  delicate  intellectual  charm  had  taken  tho 
place  of  her  form  or  mere  rustic  attractions;  she  seemed  also  to 
have  gained  something  in  stature  by  the  decreased  roundness  of 
her  person.  In  short,  when  she  came  from  her  room  to  re 
ceive  Reuben,  she  scarcely  appeared  to  be  his  old  friend  Mary 
Hopkins  at  all ;  he  was  greatly  struck  by  the  improved  style  of 


OR,  THE  COMING   MAN.  263 

her  beauty,  but  still  more  by  the  grave,  thoughtful,  reserved 
manner,  with  even  something  of  melancholy  in  it,  which  had 
usurped  the  place  of  her  former  exuberant  spirits.  Reuben  as- 
scribed  the  change  altogether  to  the  development  of  her  excel 
lent  faculties,  the  general  cultivation  of  her  mind,  and  especially 
to  her  passion  for  eloquence.  He  thought,  upon  the  whole,  that 
she  was  altered  in  every  respect  to  her  advantage,  except,  per 
haps,  in  the  point  of  reserve ;  her  manner  towards  him  was  not 
wanting  in  affection  and  even  tenderness,  but  it  was  not  alto 
gether  as  sisterly  as  formerly — that  he  could  not  help  perceiving 
and  feeling. 

Reuben  entertained  them  all  at  breakfast  the  following  day, 
and  knowing  what  a  tenderness  the  Quakeresses  had  for  flowers, 
he  took  care  to  be  provided  with  several  of  the  finest  bouquets 
Covent  Garden  could  produce,  which  would  delight  them  the 
more  as  they  little  dreamed  of  seeing  such  things  in  the  heart  of 
London.  That  morning,  as  he  made  his  toilette  with  unusual  care 
(not  forgetting  a  single  one  of  Madame  Chattel-ton's  precepts),  a 
withered  bunch  of  what  had  once  been  flowers  tumbled  out  of 
one  of  his  drawers.  It  was  the  faded  relic  of  the  bouquet  which 
he  had  worn  at  the  Chichester  meeting,  and  which  Mary's  tremu 
lous  fingers  had  fixed  in  his  coat.  He  wondered  what  chance  had 
preserved  it,  but  felt  glad,  he  scarcely  knew  why,  that  it  had 
escaped  destruction,  to  form  a  sort  of  poetical  link  between  his 
first  and  his  second  display  in  public. 

As  things  repeat  themselves  in  this  world,  there  would  have 
been  nothing  very  surprising  in  the  fair  quakeress  again  offering 
to  perform  the  same  graceful  little  ceremony  upon  the  present 
occasion;  but  Mr.  Medlicott  would  have  gone  without  a  rose  in 
his  breast,  or  been  reduced  to  stick  one  there  himself,  if  it  had 
not  been  for  Mr.  Broad,  who,  with  twenty  diverting-  bows  and 
scrapes,  declined  the  bouquet  that  was  offered  him,  adding,  that 
it  would  look  infinitely  better  in  Mr.  Reuben's  own  button-hole, 
particularly  if  a  fair  young  maiden  could  be  found  to  place  it 
there.  Thus  appealed  to,  Mary  Hopkins  could  not  but  take  the 
flowers,  and  decorate  the  orator  with  them,  though  in  doing  so 
her  cheek  grew  damask  as  the  roses  themselves,  and  she  pricked 
her  finger  with  a  pin  which  she  employed  to  fix  them.  But  no 
body  noticed  such  minute  things,  while  the  thunder  was  prepar 
ing  to  burst  on  the  head  of  the  Czar. 

Having  given  an  account  of  one  public  demonstration,  the 
details  of  another  would  be  as  wearisom6  as  was  the  actual  thine 


264  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

itself  to  the  must  judicious  of  the  persons  present.  Sub.  titute 
town  for  country,  and  numbers  of  meagre  and  moustached  for 
eigners,  with  their  vociferous  sympathisers,  for  the  black-coats, 
top-boots,  and  smock-frocks,  which  composed  the  meeting  in  the 
country — put  Poland  for  Protestantism,  partition  for  Popery,  and 
fraternity  and  sympathy  for  loyalty  and  orthodoxy — and  the 
scene  in  the  country  town  was  only  acted  over  again  on  the  Lon 
don  boards.  Mr.  Medlicott  was  again  the  great  gun  of  the  day, 
but  a  much  greater  gun  than  at  the  Protestant  meeting,  chk'tly 
in  consequence  of  his  donation,  which  led  many  people  to  fancy 
that  he  was  a  gentleman  of  ample  fortune,  as  well  as  splendid 
abilities,  a  notion  that  did  not  abate  the  respect  of  the  assembly 
for  him  a  jot,  or  the  raptures  with  which  he  was  received. 

Mr.  Broad  made  himself  almost  as  conspicuous  as  if  he  had 
been  on  the  platform.  He  potently  believed  that  the  fortunes  of 
Poland,  nay,  of  Russia  itseh',  were  involved  in  the  issue  of  the 
meeting,  and,  of  course,  that  his  "illustrious  townsman,"  as  he 
called  him,  was  arbitrating  that  day  the  fate  of  empires.  Mrs. 
Medlicott  herself  was  several  times  obliged  to  restrain  his  enthu 
siasm,  or  it  would  have  actually  disturbed  the  proceedings. 

"  Let  the  Czar  answer  that,  if  he  can  !"  he  cried,  at  the  end  of 
one  passage,  in  which  Reuben  had  put  the  European  despots  in 
a  logical  difficulty.  Mrs.  Medlicott  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm  to 
keep  him  quiet.  Then  there  was  a  superb  flight,  in  which  the 
orator  stated  a  long  list  of  grievances  and  oppressions,  concluding 
by  demanding  "  whether  all  this  was  to  be  borne  ?"  Mr.  Broad 
jumped  up  on  the  form,  waved  his  hat,  and  shouted  aloud  that 
he,  for  one,  was  determined  not  to  bear  it.  The  Chairman  mildly 
but  firmly  requested  silence.  Mr.  Broad  sat  down,  but  he  was 
not  long  seated  before  he  was  on  his  legs  again,  cheering  uproar 
iously  a  sublime  image  of  unhappy  Poland,  figured  by  a  giant 
prostrate  and  chained,  with  the  Russian  and  Austrian  eagles 
preying  on  his  vitals.  However,  that  sublime  image  set  every 
body  else  mad  also,  so  that  Mr.  Broad  was  net  very  remarkable ; 
but  he  soon  misbehaved  himself  again,  for  Mr.  Medlicott,  after 
criticising  with  some  severity  the  course  taken  by  the  friends  of 
Poland  in  Parliament,  went  on  to  inform  his  audience  what  course 
he  would  take  himself,  "  if  he  were  in  the  House  of  Commons," 
— "And  you  ought  to  be  there,  and  we'll  send  you  there!" 
screamed  the  little  cutler,  suddenly  springing  on  his  seat  again, 
and  drawing  the  eyes  of  the  whole  assemblage  upon  him. 

"  I  must  entreat  that  zealous  gentleman   to  resume  his  seat 


OR,  THE  COMING   MAN.  265 

and  preserve  siltnce,"  said  the  Chairman,  again  obliged  to  inter 
fere,  which  he  did  with  a  smile,  provoked  by  the  oddity  of  Mr. 
Broad's  appearance,  which  was  doubly  comical  wjen  he  was  in 
a  state  of  excitement. 

"  Now  do,  Mr.  Broad,"  added  Mrs.  Medlicott,  imploringly, 
"  and  we  shall  hear  Reuben  the  better." 

That  last  argument  prevailed,  and  Mr.  Broad  conducted  him 
self  pretty  well  until  the  conclusion  of  the  speech  (which  was, 
of  course,  the  shriek  of  Freedom  at  the  fall  of  Kosciusko),  when, 
there  being  no  longer  any  rule  of  propriety  to  restrain  him,  he 
went  through  such  an  amount  of  physical  exertion,  cheering, 
waving  his  hat,  beating  and  thumping  the  seats,  the  floor,  and 
everything  within  his  reach,  that  he  had  scarcely  strength  left  to 
hand  in  n*is  subscriptions,  and  pronounce  the  names  of  the  little 
band  of  sympathisers  of  whom  he  was  the  representative  and 
envoy. 

"  Now,"  said  Mr.  Broad,  when  tlve  meeting  was  over,  and  Reu 
ben  had  been  embraced  and  congratulated  by  all  his  relations 
and  friends,  until  he  was  almost  drunk  with  applause, — "Mr. 
Medlicott  has  entertained  us  at  the  Freemasons'  Tavern,  and  en 
tertained  us  royally ;  the  least  we  can  do,  I  think,  is  to  entertain 
him  in  our  own  humble  way  at  the  Black  Lion,  where  I  have 
ordered  an  early  supper ;  and  the  more  of  his  friends  he  brings 
with  him,  the  more  we  shall  feel  honoured  and  obliged." 

The  orator  not  only  accepted  the  invitation  for  himself,  but 
for  Mr.  Trevor,  the  Secretary  of  the  Polish  Association,  and  his 
professional  friends,  the  Attorney  and  Proctor,  who  wrangled  the 
whole  of  the  way  to  the  Black  Lion  on  the  question,  whether  Mr. 
Medlicott's  eloquence  was  more  suitable  to  the  King's  Bench  or 
to  Doctor's  Commons.  The  Proctor  said  it  stood  to  reason  that 
the  speaker  who  could  give  the  Czar  such  a  tremendous  dressing, 
and  draw  so  affecting  a  picture  of  an  oppressed  country,  was  just 
the  man  to  show  up  a  tyrannical  husband  in  the  proper  colours, 
and  contrast  his  odious  conduct  with  that  of  his  beautiful  and 
ill-used  wife.  The  Attorney  argued  that  there  were  abundant 
opportunities  in  the  Courts  of  Law  for  abusing  husbands  and  ex 
tolling  wives,  or  vice  versa  ;  but  what  he  most  relied  on  was,  that 
such  eloquence  as  they  had  just  heard  was  much  too  good  to  be 
thrown  away  upon  any  mere  judge — it  deserved  both  judge  and 
jury ;  and  as  it  was  one  of  the  gross  defects  of  the  Ecclesiastica.1 
Courts  to  want  juries,  he  thought  the  reason  was  hollow  upon 
his  side  of  the  question.  This  dispute  might  have  Heated 
11 


266  THE    LIUvERSAL    GENIUS  J 

if  Mr.  Trevor  had  not  raised  another,  by  venturing  an  opinion 
that  Mr.  Medlicott  was  too  universal  a  genius  to  prosecute  any 
branch  of  his  profession  very  steadily. 

"I  doubt,  very  much,"  said  Trevor,  "if  that  style  of  speaking 
is  the  thing  for  the  bar  at  all.  It  might  do  very  well " 

"  In  the  House,"  interrupted  the  Proctor. 

"In  the  pulpit,"  said  the  Attorney. 

u  What  do  you  know  about  the  pulpit  ?"  said  the  Proctor. 

"As  much  as  you  do  about  the  House,"  said  the  Attorney. 

The  question  was  not  settled  until  they  reached  the  Black 
Lion,  when  Mr.  Broad's  hearty  entertainment  brought  it  to  an 
abrupt  and  agreeable  termination.  The  old  inn  had  not  been  so 
jovial  for  many  a  day.  Everybody  was  in  the  humour  of  ap 
plauding  and  sympathising  with  everything  :  the  supper  was  the 
best  that  was  spread  on  a  table;  the  Poles  the  greatest  nation 
that  ever  existed  in  the  world ;  the  speech  transcending  every 
effort  in  ancient  or  modern  tinier.  Mr.  Medlicott  was  liti-ntlly 
smothered  with  praises  and  flatteries,  for  an  injudicious  display 
that  virtually  ended  his  career  at  the  bar,  and  threw  hirn  again 
adrift  upon  the  world. 

There  was  no  louder  panegyrist  of  his  eloquence  than  Mr. 
Reynard,  the  Attorney  ;  but  he  sent  the  orator  no  brief  the  next 
day  ;  and  one  or  two  other  solicitors,  who  had  already  given  him 
business,  ceased  to  do  so,  after  his  demonstration  in  behalf  of  the 
Poles. 


CHAPTER  V. 

HOW  ME.  MEDLICOTT  FELL  AMOXG  THE  QUAKERS. 

ORDINARY  men  are  wont  to  marry,  when  they  have  succeeded  in 
their  professions  ;  but  Mr.  Medlicott,  being  an  extraordinary  man, 
married  just  at  the  moment  when  his  failure  began  to  be  a  sub 
ject  of  general  remark.  We  must  observe,  however,  that  his 
failure  at  the  bar  was  sc  far  from  shaking  either  the  faith  of  his 
sanguine  friends,  or  his  own  confidence  in  his  powers,  that  it  con 
firmed  both  one  and  the  other,  wonderfully  ;  some  imputed  the 
result  to  the  gross  stupidity  of  the  public  ;  others  were  of  opinion 
that  the  defeats  of  genius  in  inferior  employments  were  to  be  re 
garded  in  the  light  of  triumphs ;  they  said,  in  short  (and  Mr. 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  267 

Medlicott  himself,  probably,  supplied  them  with  the  image),  that 
he  failed  with  the  distuft",  only  because  his  hands  were  made  to 
wield  the  club. 

Still,  it  was  an  odd  time  to  choose  for  marrying;  but  as  he 
had  already  put  the  cart  before  the  horsv,  in  cultivating  oratory 
in  preference  to  law,  he  was  only  repeating  the  same  brilliant 
mistake  iu  taking  a  wife  first,  and  making  a  fortune  afterwards. 

It  all  came  of  sympathy.  We  have  seen  that  the  pretty 
Quakeress  had  long  been  sympathising  in  secret  with  Reuben ; 
and  the  time  was  now  arrived  for  Reuben  to  sympathise  with 
her,  which  he  very  soon  did  as  strongly  and  as  publicly  as  he 
had  lately  sympathised  with  the  Poles. 

But  let  us  not  travel  too  fast.  Mrs.  Medlicott,  after  taking 
advantage  of  her  presence  in  London  to  visit  all  the  literary  and 
scientific  institutions,  and  attend  as  many  lectures  as  she  could 
thrust  into  a  week,  returned  to  Chichester  with  the  cutler,  who 
proved  charming  company  ;  for  he  talked  of  nothing,  the  whole 
journey,  but  the  parliamentary  glories  that  were  in  store  for  her 
son.  The  Quakeresses  remained  behind  in  town,  partly  because 
the  yearly  meeting  was  at  hand,  and  partly  because  the  fatigue 
of  travelling,  with  the  excitement  of  Reuben's  exploits,  followed 
by  Mr.  Broad's  gaieties  at  the  Black  Lion,  had  proved  too  much 
(or  Old  Hannah  Hopkins ;  and  an  interval  of  repose  was  neces 
sary  to  enable  her  to  take  the  road  again.  They  remained  for  a 
few  days  at  the  Black  Lion,  but  the  old  woman  continuing  weak, 
Reuben  took  lodgings  for  them  in  Grace-church  Street,  that  they 
might  be  near  their  friend  and  relation,  Mr.  Harvey,  the  book- 
se.'ler.  But  although  the  Harveys  were  the  kindest  people,  and 
omitted  no  attention  that  their  aged  relative  required,  Mr.  Medli 
cott  was  so  far  from  neglecting  his  own  duty  to  his  friends,  that 
he  spent  almost  every  evening  in  Gracechurch  Street,  and  took 
care  that  his  old  schoolmistress  should  want  nothing  that  money 
could  procure  for  her.  There  was,  indeed,  a  charitable  rivalry 
between  him  and  friend  Harvey,  who  should  do  most  to  make 
Hannah's  last  days  as  comfortable  as  possible ;  for  the  doctors 
who  saw  her  were  of  opinion  that  it  was  most  unlikely  she  would 
ever  return  to  Chichester.  This  announcement  touched  Reuben 
exceedingly,  when  he  thought  of  the  occasion  wliich  had  brought 
the  good  woman  up  to  London  ;  and  he  was  the  more  constant 
in  his  attendance,  because  he  could  not  but  perceive  that  Mary 
was  much  more  pleased  to  receive  his  attentions  than  those  of 
her  relation,  who  was  a  prodigiously  fussy  man,  and  somewhat 
ostentatious  of  his  friendly  services. 


268  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  > 

Had  Mr.  MecTHcott's  judgment  been  as  solid  as  his  heart  was 
sound,  he  would  have  made  few  mistakes  in  his  career.  He  had 
numerous  acquaintances  in  London,  and  was  never  more  in  re 
quest  among  them  than  since  his  display  at  the  Freemasons' 
Tavern.  Even  those  who  censured  him  for  wandering  from  his 
proper  course,  admired  the  brilliancy  of  his  aberrations,  and  ca 
ressed  him  for  his  graceful  accomplishments,  while  they  lamented 
his  deficiency  in  the  sterner  stuff  of  which  ambition  ought  to  bo 
made.  Master  Turner  made  a  party  expressly  for  him  ;  so  did 
the  nobleman  who  filled  the  chair  at  the  Polish  demonstration ; 
but  Mr.  Medlicott  excused  himself  to  both,  though  no  man  valued 
such  flattering  attentions  more  than  he  did  ;  nor  was  this  all,  ho 
also  did  what  was  very  unnecessary  and  highly  imprudent ;  ho 
declined  business,  and  even  returned  fees,  preferring  to  take  his 
way  every  evening,  and  at  other  times  of  the  day  not  unfrequent- 
ly,  into  the  far  city,  to  share  the  fatigues  and  anxieties  of  those 
obscure  lodgings  where  Hannah  Hopkins  seemed  destined  to  close 
her  days.  Those  numerous  visits  brought  him  closer  to  Mary 
than  he  had  ever  been  in  the  greatest  familiarity  of  childhood. 
He  would  have  been  welcome  to  her  for  his  friendship,  merely, 
but  the  pride  she  took  in  his  attentions  made  them  doubly  ac 
ceptable.  Reuben,  upon  his  part,  would  have  been  attracted  to 
her  side  by  her  distress,  without  any  stronger  magnet ;  but  every 
thing  now  contributed  to  draw  him  towards  her,  her  affliction, 
her  beauty,  and  that  most  potent  of  all  fascinations,  the  feeling 
that  he  was  valued  for  those  qualities  which  he  most  valued  in 
himself. 

There  was  a  lapse  of  several  weeks,  with  the  usual  fluctua 
tions  between  hope  and  despondency.  Notwithstanding  the 
closeness  of  Mary's  attendance  on  her  mother,  Reuben  had  many 
opportunities  of  various  discourse  with  the  fair  Quakeress ;  he 
discoursed — of  what  did  he  not  discourse  ?— of  poetry  and  elo 
quence,  of  poets  and  orators,  on  a  thousand  Interesting  questions 
of  art  and  literature ;  sometimes  even  entering  into  abstruser  sub 
jects  ;  and  always,  when  Friend  Harvey  was  present,  discussing 
some  one  or  other  of  the  hundred  enlightened  or  humane  pro 
jects  in  which  he  was  interested  or  engaged,  for  in  Harvey's  c»m- 
p:iny  it  was  impossible  to  talk  for  many  minutes  upon  anything 
bur,  enlightenment  and  philanthropy. 

In  the  natural  course  of  things,  the  guardianship  of  poor  Mary 
Hopkins,  after  her  mother's  decease,  ought  to  have  devolved  upon 
this  Mr.  Harvey,  who  was  her  nearest  relati  Te,  and  of  her  own 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  269 

religious  persuasion ;  but  whether  it  was  that  the  old  woman's 
understanding  was  slightly  impaired  by  her  bodily  suffering,  or 
that  her  long  knowledge  and  enthusiastic  admiration  of  Mr.  Med- 
licott  (lately  excited  to  the  highest  pitch),  led  her  to  place  greater 
confidence  in  him  than  in  any  other  human  being^und  imagine 
that  he  alone  possessed  the  requisite  amount  of  benevolence  ibr 
the  discharge  of  such  a  trust,  she  took  the  extraordinary  stop, 
when  she  imagined  her  last  moments  were  at  hand,  of  calling  him 
to  her  bed-side,  and,  with  the  utmost  solemnity,  confiding  her 
disconsolate  daughter  to  his  special  protection,  enjoining  her  to  be 
guided  in  all  her  actions  by  his  advice  and  to  seek  his  assistance 
and  support  in  all  her  trials  and  tribulations.  Mr.  Medlicott  was 
so  much  affected  by  the  scene,  that  he  was  not  as  much  surprised 
as  he  would  otherwise  have  been  by  a  proceeding  so  extraordi 
nary,  and  indeed  unwarrantable.  When  the  old  lady  even  went 
the  length  of  placing  the  weeping  Mary's  hand  in  his,  to  impress 
the  solemn  nature  of  the  trust  more  emphatically  upon  him,  Reu 
ben  melted  into  tears  also,  and  in  the  tender  passion  of  the 
moment,  not  only  kissed  the  hand  confided  to  him,  but  commit 
ted  himself  by  language  more  impassioned  than  was  discreet  or 
necessary. 

Notwithstanding  all  this  melancholy  preparation,  the  hour  of 
Hannah  Hopkins  was  not  yet  come.  There  was  a  time  for  all 
things  under  the  sun,  but  the  time  lor  Hannah's  sun  to  set  was 
much  more  distant  than  either  her  friends  or  her  physicians  sup 
posed.  It  is  useless  to  speculate  how  Mr.  Medlicott  would  have 
acted  if  Mrs.  Hopkins  had  ended  her  days  then,  when  everybody 
thought  she  had  made  up  her  mind  to  do  so ;  but  whatever 
chance  of  escape  he  might  have  had  in  that  event  was  utterly 
destroyed  by  her  recovery,  which,  being  a  tedious  process,  led  to 
such  a  combination  of  tender  little  occurrences,  and  wove  such  a 
web  of  sentiment  and  sympathy  about  him,  that  had  he  been  a 
stronger  fly  than  he  was,  it  would  have  been  scarcely  possible  for 
him  to  have  disentangled  himself,  or  burst  through  it. 

Friend  Harvey  was  not,  perhaps,  an  intentional  match-maker; 
but  if  he  did  not  actually  lay  himself  out  for  it,  he  was  probably 
only  the  more  successful  for  that  very  reason.  Having  a  small 
family  and  a  large  house,  he  began  by  inducing  the  Hopkinses  to 
remove  to  it,  as  soon  as  old  Hannah  wras  equal  to  the  effort ;  and 
not  long  afterwards,  the  accident  of  a  fire  in  the  building  having 
made  it  necessary  for  Mr.  Medlicott  to  leave  his  chambers  in  the 
Temple  on  the  shortest  possible  notice,  Mr.  Harvey  offered  to 


270  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

accommodate  him  too  with  a  temporary  asy  .um,  and  was  so  warm 
and  pressing,  that  Reuben  at  length  accepted  his  proposition,  and 
thus  came  into  closer  contact  and  more  perilous  proximity  than 
ever  with  the  sweet  enthusiastic  Maiy. 

Friend  Harvey,  as  we  have  intimated,  was  the  most  indefat- 
igably  busy,  and  the  most  fervently  zealous  creature  in  the  wide 
world.  At  the  same  time  no  man  was  shrewder  in  his  trade,  had 
a  sharper  eye  to  the  main  chance,  or  better  knew  how  to  make  a 
friend  of  the  Mammon  of  Unrighteousness.  He  was  either  an 
acting  or  a  corresponding  member  of  every  society,  institution, 
and  committee  in  England,  for  suppressing  slavery,  abolishing 
capital  punishments,  putting  down  human  chimney-sweeping,  and 
war,  and  pestilence,  and  gin-palaces,  and  gin  itself,  everything  in 
short  that  was  not  perfectly  blameless,  and  after  the  strictest  and 
purest  pattern  of  Quakcrly  morality.  But  as  he  aspired  to  be 
pre-eminently  a  philanthropic  and  Quaker  bookseller,  this  exten 
sive  concern  in  humane  projects  and  undertakings  was  so  far  from 
injuring  him  in  his  trade,  that  it  served  him  extremely,  making 
his  shop  the  principal  one  in  London  for  the  publication  and  sale 
of  benevolent  works  and  fanatical  tracts,  essays,  treatises,  and  dis 
courses,  of  all  descriptions,  sixes,  and  pretensions.  In  domestic 
life  he  was  the  same  active,  Uvely,  and  excitable  personage  that 
he  was  in  his  projects  and  his  trade.  When  Harvey  once  said 
that  his  friend  must  dine  with  him,  spend  a  month  with  him,  or 
do  anything  else  he  wanted  him  to  do,  there  was  no  help  for  it ; 
the  thing  must  be  done,  even  when  it  was  not  as  agreeable  to  the 
friend  as  it  was  to  Harvey  himself.  You  must  either  give  him 
his  way  or  offend  him,  and  who  would  willingly  oifend  a  man 
who  never  offended  anybody  except  by  being  too  friendly  and 
hospitable.  It  was  thus  that  he  almost  forced  Reuben  to  take  a 
room  in  his  house  in  Gracechurch-street,  or  rather  a  suite  of 
rooms,  for  he  was  only  too  proud  and  happy  to  give  him  the  best 
of  everything  he  had  to  give.  Mr.  bread  himself  did  not  enter 
tain  a  more  exaggerated  notion  of  Mr.  Mcdlicott's  capabilities  than 
did  Mr.  Harvey,  before  he  had  been  a  fortnight  acquainted  with 
him.  Not  only  did  Reuben  completely  impose  upon  the  Quaker 
by  his  copious  flood  of  elocution,  which  Harvey  considered  the 
very  overflowing  of  the  fountains  of  wisdom,  but  Reuben  had 
been  gradually  growing  warm  upon  some  of  the  subjects  which 
kept  the  mind  of  the  bookseller  in  a  perpetual  fever,  particularly 
on  the  questions  of  capital  punishments  and  peace,  over  the  latter 
of  which  Mr.  Medlicott  had  been  already  brooding  to  an  extent 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  271 

that  was  truly  formidable.  On  the  subject  of  capital  punish 
ments  he  had  once  made  a  speech  when  he  was  at  college  ;  his 
mother  had  given  it,  with  others,  to  the  Quakeresses  to  read ;  and 
the  subject  being  broached  one  day  at  Harvey's  table,  Reuben's 
speech  was  not  only  remembered,  but  Mary  Hopkins,  to  his  great 
surprise,  and  perhaps  his  equal  gratification,  produced  a  copy  of 
it,  in  her  own  neat  hand,  which  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  the 
philanthropic  bookseller  actually  devoured. 

"  Thee  must  permit  me  to  print  it,"  said  Friend  Harvey. 

Reuben  smiled  as  if  the  notion  was  ridiculous,  but  before  a 
week  expired,  the  speech  was  published,  and  might  have  been 
seen  in  Harvey's  shop-windows,  and  announced  in  huge  letters  on 
one  of  the  many  boards  which  hung  at  the  door.  What  is  more, 
this  puerile  rhapsody  had  a  wonderful  run  among  the  Abolition 
ists,  and  Harvey  did  not  relish  its  eloquence  the  less  because  his 
pocket  was  benefited  by  it  in  common  with  the  cause,  for  it  may 
be  supposed  that  Mr.  Medlicott,  declined  receiving  any  share  of 
the  profits.  After  this  substantial  proof  of  our  hero's  value,  it 
was  curious  to  observe  how  he  rose  in  the  Quaker's  estimation, 
high  as  he  had  stood  there  before.  Friend  Harvey  would  stand 
gazing  on  Mr.  Medlicott  with  an  eager  expression  in  his  eye,  and 
an  appetizing  movement  and  watering  of  his  lips,  just  as  if  Reu 
ben  had  been  a  turtle  and  his  talents  all  green  fat;  so  much  did 
he  hope  to  make  of  him,  partly,  no  doubt,  in  the  way  of  his  busi 
ness,  but  in  a  great  measure,  also,  it  is  only  just  to  say,  as  an 
instrument  for  advancing  his  multifarious  schemes  for  Ifae  benefit 
of  the  human  spe  :ies.  Harvey's  two  sons,  likewise,  who  were  in 
his  shop,  would  al*o  stand  gaping  at  the  same  intellectual  pro 
digy,  jis  f  they  were  equally  disposed  to  eat  him ;  or  as  if  he  had 
actually  been  the  author  of  the  Book  of  the  Proverbs.  Jonas  and 
Samuel  were  twins,  lank-haired,  smooth-faced,  brown-coated 
youths,  who  had  been  brought  up  to  think  it  ill-manners  to  speak 
except  when  the  were  spoken  to  ;  it  was  not  easy  to  distinguish 
them,  they  were  so  like  one  another,  but  Jonas  was  kind  enough 
to  keep  his  mouth  generally  wide  open,  which  helped  people  to 
discriminate  between  them. 

But  an  incident  in  which  his  grandfather  had  a  share,  tended 
more  than  anything  else  to  tighten  the  bonds  between  Mr.  Medli 
cott  and  the  Society  of  Friends,  an  alliance  which  was  destined  to 
exercise  such  a  powerful  influence  on  his  future  life  and  fortunes. 

We  have  lost  sight  of  the  Bishop  for  some  time  ;  indeed  a  lit 
tle  too  long,  for  the  fact  that  Mrs.  Wyndham.  had  astonished  the 


272  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

world  by  presenting  tht  venerable  prelate  with  a  son,  was  im 
portant  enough  to  have  deserved  an  earlier  notice.  It  engrossed 
his  lordship's  thoughts,  and  swelled  his  pride  and  importance 
more  than  if  he  had  been  appointed  to  an  additional  see.  At 
home,  or  abroad,  this  marvellous  infant  was  seldom  out  of  the 
paternal  sight  for  a  moment,  his  extravagant  anxieties  making 
poor  Blanche  almost  appear  in  the  light  of  a  step-mother  to  her 
baby.  It  was  to  be  seen  puling  opposite  to  the  Bishop  in  his 
coach  as  he  drove  to  the  House  of  Lords.  It  had  already  accom 
panied  him  to  a  visitation ;  and  frequently,  when  clergymen 
waited  on  him  in  his  library  to  transact  ecclesiastical  business, 
their  ears  were  sainted  with  little  squeakings  out  of  a  corner,  pro 
ceeding  from  the  cot  or  the  cradle  where  little  Tom  Wyndham 
was  deposited. 

We  are  more  concerned,  however,  at  present  with  another 
child  of  his  Lordship's  old  age,  which  made  its  appearance  at  the 
same  time,  and  made  some  noise  in  the  world  also.  This  was 
his  long-threatened  onslaught  upon  the  doctrines  and  principles 
of  the  Quakers,  a  tract  which  was  composed  with  all  the  force 
and  virulence  which  had  formerly  distinguished  his  writings 
against  the  Roman  Catholics.  It  had  already  gone  through  three 
editions,  without  attracting  much  notice  in  Gracechurch  Street ; 
but  the  announcement  of  a  fourth,  with  a  considerable  flourish  of 
trumpets  by  the  Bishop's  publisher,  was  more  than  Harvey  could 
stand ;  and  accordingly  he  came  bustling  in,  one  morning,  to 
breakfast,  with  the  tract  in  his  hand,  declaring  that  it  must  be 
answered  immediately. 

Reuben  took  it  up,  and  read  it  aloud,  with  a  running  com 
mentary  as  he  proceeded,  taking  part  very  decidedly  against  his 
grandfather,  sometimes  reprobating  the  violence  of  his  language, 
sometimes  the  unfairness  of  his  statements,  and  often  even  the 
correctness  of  his  facts,  absolutely  astonishing  the  Quakers  by  ap 
pearing  to  know  twice  as  much  as  they  did  themselves  about 
William  Penn  and  their  other  celebrities.  Many  a  remark  which 
he  made  was  all  Greek  to  the  Hopkinses  and  Harveys,  but  this 
only  impressed  them  the  more  with  his  amazing  wisdom  and 
erudition. 

"  That's  a  flat  petitio  princijni — there  again,  more  begging  of 
the  question — not  the  fact — against  all  the  authorities  on  the 
subject — adroitly  put,  but  admitting  of  the  simplest  possible  re 
ply — very  true,  my  Lord  Bishop  and  most  respectable  grandsire, 
but  quite"  irrelevant,*— an<  ther  sophism  :  what  we  used  to  call  at 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN".  273 

college  ignoratio  elenchi — another — see  what  it  is  when  a  writer 
suffers  his  passion  to  run  away  with  his  reason — words,  words, 
words,  nothing  but  words  for  several  pages.— I  am  sorry  to  find 
such  mere  babble  in  the  production  of  a  man  who  was  once  such 
a  profound  thinker,  but  do  you  know,  Mr.  Harvey,  I  am  afraid 
there  are  signs  of  the  garrulity  of  age  in  this  pamphlet  of  my 
grandfather's  ?  It  admits  of  the  easiest  and  the  most  triumphant 
answer." 

"  And  thou  wilt  do  us  that  service  thyself,"  said  Friend  Harvey. 

Reuben  smiled,  shook  his  head,  and  gently  ridiculed  the  no 
tion  of  a  lawyer  entering  the  lists  of  controversial  divinity  with  a 
bishop,  not  to  speak  of  the  oddity  of  a  member  of  the  Established 
Church  taking  up  the  cudgels  for  a  body  of  Dissenters. 

"  Thou  knowest  we  may  not  take  up  the  cudgels  for  ourselves, 
friend  Reuben,"  said  Harvey,  with  an  oily  smile. 

"  You  may  wield  the  pen,"  said  Mr.  Medlicott ;  "  and  all  the 
more  freely,  as  it  is  the  only  weapon  you  have  to  defend  your 
selves." 

"  But  we  have  not  thy  learning,  or  thy  beautiful  diction,  or 
thy  knowledge  of  our  antagonist,"  urged  Harvey. 

"  Thou  wouldest  not  be  long  about  it,"  said  his  wife,  a  quiet, 
dove-coloured  Quakeress,  whose  voice  was  seldom  heard  in  the 
house  or  anywhere  else,  and  who  seldom  entered  ostensibly  into 
any  of  her  husband's  projects,  either  sentimental  or  mercantile. 

Hannah  Hopkins  took  her  breakfast  in  her  room,  but  Mary 
was  present,  catching  every  word  that  fell  from  Mr.  Medlicott's 
lips,  as  if  it  had  been  a  jewel  of  Golconda,  and  tenderly  interested 
in  Friend  Harvey's  object,  though  only  her  animated  looks  and 
attitude  of  eager  attention  showed  it. 

Reuben  now  commenced  his  breakfast,  but  soon  discontinued 
it ;  and  throwing  h'.mself  back  in  his  chair,  began  to  apologise 
for  the  Society  of  Friends,  and  demolish  his  grandfather's  posi 
tions  in  his  amplest  and  most  variegated  style  of  extempore  de 
clamation.  Harvey,  though  a  great  eater,  suspended  his  knife 
and  fork,  though  his  lips  still  moved  as  we  have  before  described, 
and  the  ti^  of  his  tongue  might  be  seen  going  in  and  out  with  a 
liquorish  volubility,  no  otherwise  than  if  Reuben's  sentences  had 
tickled  his  palate  as  well  as  enchanted  his  ear.  His  sons  Jonas 
and  Samuel  (whose  time  for  breakfast  was  limited),  made  a  shift  to 
swallow  the  bread  and  butter,  and  the  galimatias  at  the  same 
time ;  while  frien  I  Wilson,  a  tall,  prim,  drab,  and  ultra-broad- 
brimmed  Quaker  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  who  drop- 
12* 


274  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

ped  in  while  the  torrent  was  flowing,  sat  near  the  door  with  hia 
hands  clasped  over  his  breast,  as  he  was  wont  to  do  upon  First 
day  at  the  Meeting. 

After  thus  improvising  a  pamphlet,  it  was  idle  to  decide  wri 
ting  one ;  but,  Mr.  Medlicott  continuing  coy,  friend  Harvey,  who 
was  not  to  be  foiled  when  he  set  his  heart  upon  an  object,  appeal 
ed  to  Mary  Hopkins  for  her  support,  alluding  in  no  very  delicate 
manner  to  the  influence  he  suspected  she  possessed  over  Reuben. 

The  allusion  set  her  cheek  on  fire,  and  would  have  utterly 
defeated  Mr.  Harvey's  purpose,  if  it  had  been  necessary  for  Mary 
to  have  made  a  speech  upon  the  occasion  in  presence  of  the  as 
sembled  company ;  but  it  happened  opportunely  that  Harvey  was 
called  away  just  at  the  instant ;  whereupon  everybody  rose,  and 
in  a  few  moments,  before  Mary's  cheek  had  ceased  to  glow,  she 
and  Mr.  Medlicott  were  the  only  occupiers  of  the  apartment. 

It  was  the  beginning  of  summer,  and  one  of  those  days  of 
rare  occurrence  when  the  sky^vas  actually  blue  and  the  sun  shone 
visibly  over  Gracechurch  Street.  Reuben  and  Mary  had  never 
yet  walked  together  in  London  without  other  company.  Mary 
had  never  visited  the  British  Museum.  Reuben  proposed  to  take 
her  to  see  it.  She  hesitated,  blushed  again,  smiled,  and  said  she 
would  much  like  to  go,  but  would  first  mention  it  to  her  mother 
and  obtain  her  consent,  That  proved  no  difficult  point.  Mary 
returned,  wearing  her  bonnet  of  silver-grey,  her  First-day  robe  of 
the  same  hue,  and  her  shawl  as  white  as  the  driven  snow.  They 
set  out  on  their  expedition,  and  many  an  eye  that  day  in  the 
London  streets,  and  many  an  eye  in  the  great  national  institution 
over  which  they  ranged  together,  was  attracted  by  the  pretty 
Quakeress,  under  convoy  of  the  handsome  young  man,  clothed  in 
the  fashions  of  this  wicked  world.  That  day  was  pregnant  with 
a  great  deal,  but  its  first  and  immediate  result  was  Reuben's  con 
sent  to  defend  the  fair  Mary's  religious  opinions,  and  the  charac 
ter  of  her  sect,  against  his  grandfather's  libellous  strictures. 

Harvey's  glee  was  indescribable  when  he  found  at  dinner  that 
his  point  was  carried ;  he  jumped  about,  rubbed  his  hands  as  if 
he  was  washing  them,  and  talked  of  nothing  for  half-an-hour  but 
pica  and  long  primer. 

"Thy  response  shall  be  published  on  fifth  day  next,"  he  said 
to  Reuben,  "  and  thou  wilt  put  thy  name  on  the  title-page,  or 
not,  as  thee  pleases.  If  thou  wilt  take  my  advice,  thou  wilt  avow 
thyself  the  author,  and  make  thy  name  known  to  the  world." 

The  vanity  of  Mr.  Medlicott  would  have  led  him  to  acquiesce 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  275 

in  this  suggestion,  rash  as  it  was,  but  the  strong  sense  of  Mary 
Hopkins  saved  him  from  so  false  a  step 4  she  perceived  how  im 
prudent  it  would  be  to  make  his  grandfather  still  more  his  enemy 
than  he  was  already,  and  by  a  quiet  little  hint  to  that  effect  in 
the  course  of  the  evening,  determined  him  to  pull  down  his  vizor, 
and  enter  the  lists  of  controversy  anonymously. 

Fifth  day  came  and  the  pamphlet  with  it,  shining,  smooth, 
and  hot-pressed.  Its  appearance  made  old  Hannah  young  again ; 
Mary  read  it  aloud  to  her  mother  twice,  but  how  often  she  perused 
it  in  secret  was  known  to  herself  alone. 

Reuben  had  no  mean  opinion  of  this  work  of  his,  but  Harvey 
could  find  no  language  to  praise  it  sufficiently.  He  crammed 
his  windows  with  it,  placarded  it  in  letters  a  foot  long,  sent  copies 
to  all  the  Meetings  in  the  three  kingdoms,  and  presented  a  copy 
to  every  customer  that  entered  his  shop.  He  might  well  boast, 
as  he  did,  every  day  at  breakfast  and  dinner,  of  its  wonderful  cir 
culation,  though  probably  the  copies  actually  sold  did  not  amount 
to  a  dozen.  The  following  little  dialogue  took  place  in  the  shop 
every  ten  minutes : — 

"  Hast  thou  seen  this  ?  It  is  worth  thy  reading  1"  pointing  to 
the  pamphlet,  then  rubbing  his  hands. 

"  Excellent,  no  doubt,  but  it  is  not  in  my  way,"  the  customer 
would  reply. 

"  Permit  me  to  present  thee  with  a  copy." 

On  the  third  day  of  the  publication,  however,  a  customer 
came  who  actually  bought  the  work.  A  large  family  coach, 
with  mitres  on  the  panels,  and  servants  in  dark  purple  liveries, 
drove  up  the  street  and  stopped  at  Harvey's.  A  tall,  robust  old 
gentleman,  wearing  a  shovel-hat  and  an  apron,  handed  a  great 
chubby  infant  to  a  comely  woman  who  sat  opposite  to  him,  and 
alighting  with  very  little  assistance  from  the  footman,  pushed  his 
way  into  the  shop. 

"'You  have  published  an  attack  upon  me,  I  want  to  see  it." 

"What  is  thy  name,  friend  ?" 

"The  Bishop  of  Shrewsbury — Doctor  Wyndham,"  was  the 
reply,  given  very  drily  and  impatiently. 

"  This  is  the  work  thou  alludest  to,  friend  Wyndham ;  but 
thou  must  permit  me  to  observe,  that  the  book  is  not  an  attack 
upon  thee,  hat  a  reply  to  thy  attack  upon  us." 

"  Who  is  the  writer  ?" 

"  Thou  mayest  not  be  informed,  friend." 

"  I  put  my  name  to  my  tract" 


THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS', 

"Thou  wert  free  to  publish  thy  observations  with  thy  name, 
or  without  thy  name,  at  thy  pleasure,,  friend." 

"  You  took  a  long  time  to  answer  my  observations." 

"  Pel-adventure,  friend  Wyndham,  thou  wilt  take  a  longer 
time  to  answer  ours." 

The  Bishop  put  down  his  shilling,  disdaining  to  bandy  more 
words  with  the  bookseller,  and,  returning  to  the  coach,  drove  off 
with  the  nurse  and  Tom,  the  latter  trying  to  possess  himself  of 
Reuben's  pamphlet  for  a  plaything,  and  tearing  off  the  title-page 
in  the  attempt. 

The  bookseller  flew  up  to  his  wife  and  his  guests,  to  tell  them 
who  had  been  in  his  shop,  and  what  he  had  said  to  my  Lord 
Bishop,  which  evidently  pleased  himself  vastly.  But  Reuben  and 
Mary  had  witnessed  all  that  passed  through  a  glass  door  which 
separated  the  shop  from  Mr.  Harvey's  private  office,  and  the  scene 
recalled  to  their  memories  the  evening  at  Underwood,  mentioned 
early  in  this  history,  when  Dr.  Wyndham  had  first  menaced  the 
Quakers  with  his  wrath,  and  when  Mary  and  her  mother,  scared 
by  his  termagant  demeanor,  had  fled  from  the  Vicarage,  leaving 
their  tea  and  their  flowers  behind  them. 

"  How  you  laughed,  Mary,"  said  Reuben,  "  when  he  fished 
his  hat  out  of  the  well,  and  shook  it,  and  sprinkled  us  all  round 
with  the  water." 

"I  was  only  a  foolish,  giddy  girl  at  that  time,  Reuben." 

"  You  certainly  laughed  a  great  deal  more  then  than  you  ever 
do  now,"  said  Mr.  Medlicott,  looking  tenderly  at  her. 

She  blushed  and  tried  to  repair  the  fault  which  he  noticed, 
hut  the  effort  to  laugh  ended  in  a  sigh. 

Reuben  took  her  hand,  and  in  the  softest  of  all  possible  tones, 
attuning  his  voice  to  the  utmost  sweetness,  whispered  the  first 
words  which  directly  intimated  to  Mary  the  existence  of  a  feeling 
in  his  breast  answering  to  that  which  had  long  agitated  hers. 
The  words  were  few,  and  their  hands  were  scarcely  joined  before 
they  were  parted,  for  Jonas  and  Samuel  were  inconveniently  near, 
only  separated  by  the  glass  door.  Harvey,  too,  was  hurrying 
down  stairs  again,  looking  everywhere  for  his  beloved  pam 
phleteer,  whom  he  met  coming  out  from  his  office,  followed  by 
the  fair  Mary,  who  (if  we  may  divine  what  was  passing  under 
her  white  muslin  kerchief)  was  never  so  truly  a  Quakeress  at 
heart  as  at  that  moment. 

Mary  had  heard  Reuben's  oratory  in  the  Court-House  of 
Chichester,  his  eloquence  in  London  at  the  Polish  demonstration 


OK,  THE  COMING  M^N.  277 

ami  his  conversational  rhetoric  a  thousand  times ;  but  those  few 
brief  words  were  to  her  the  most  magical  and  thrilling  that  ever 
fell  from  his  lips.'  For  once  he  had  made  a  laconic  speech,  and 
probably  it  was  as  effective  a  speech  as  he  ever  delivered.  It 
was  not,  however,  the  last  of  the  kind;  in  a  few  days  he  made 
her  another,  more  studied,  more  formal, — in  fact  sufficiently  de 
claratory  not  only  of  his  sentiments,  but  his  intentions. 

The  chief  difficulty  he  experienced  was  from  the  maiden  her 
self,  whose  feelings  toward"  him  had  long  been  those  of  Helena 
for  the  unworthy  Bertram ;  she  felt  that 

"  In  bis  bright  radiance  and  collateral  light 
Must  she  be  comforted,  not  in  his  sphere." 

she  naturally  feared  that  he  mistook  generosity  for  love ;  and  it 
was  not  until  after  a  siege  of  some  duration,  during  which  lie 
gave  every  proof  of  the  most  ardent  attachment,  that  she  at  length 
yielded  to  his  solemn  declaration  that  her  consent  was  necessary 
to  his  happiness. 

As  to  the  difficulties  on  the  part  of  his  parents,  who  concurred 
in  thinking  him  nothing  short  of  a  madman,  it  is  hard  to  explain 
how  he  overcame  them,  except  by  obstinately  following  his  own 
inclinations. 

His  mother  especially  was  mortified  and  enraged,  at  what  sho 
considered  a  mesalliance  for  a  man  of  Reuben's  promise,  and  the 
result  of  an  abominable,  conspiracy  among  the  Hopkinses  and 
Harveys ;  nor  was  her  resentment  in  the  least  diminished,  when 
Mr.  Cox  settled  an  annuity  of  two  hundred  a  year  and  a  pretty 
cottage  on  poor  Mary,  which  made  the  prospects  of  the  marriage 
less  dismal  than  at  first  they  seemed. 

But  Mrs.  Medlicott's  indignation  was  not  very  unreasonable 
after  all,  considering  the  hopes  she  had  cherished.  She  had 
dreamed  of  brilliant  nuptials  for  her  son,  alliances  with  ministers 
sustained  in  office  by  his  eloquence,  with  chancellors  happy  to 
connect  themselves  with  the  rising  talent  of  the  bar,  or  with 
millionaires  only  too  well  off  to  exchange  a  daughter  with  a 
hundred  thousand  pounds  for  a  handsome  young  orator  and  a 
volume  of  speeches.  All  these  bubbles  of  love  and  vanity  were 
burst,  when  Reuben  flung  doAvn  his  gage  to  fortune,  and  became 
the  daring  husband  of  the  fair  and  fortuneless  Mary  Hopkins. 
In  truth,  however,  Mary  renounced  more  for  him  than  he  did  for 
her,  for  she  left  not  only  her  mother  but  the  Meeting,  when  she 
became  his  wife  j  whereas  Reuben,  far  from  giving  up  the  world, 


278  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ) 

was  not  two  years  married  before  he  began  to  play  a  more 
prominent  part  in  it. 

During  those  two  years  he  became  the  father  of  two  children, 
and  living  entirely  in  London,  increased  his  reputation  and  popu 
larity  among  the  Quakers  enormously ;  to  such  a  degree,  indeed, 
that  his  fame  crossed  the  Atlantic  to  New  York,  and  a  deputa 
tion  of  American  fi  lends  actually  came  to  England,  to  invite  him 
to  visit  and  enlighten  the  new  world.  He  was  busily  engaged 
in  preparing  a  course  of  lectures,  upon  the  elastic  subject  of 
popular  education,  when  his  plans  were  altered  by  domestic 
events,  which  led  him  to  neglect  the  Americans  for  some  years, 
and  devote  himself  to  his  own  countrymen. 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  279 


BOOK  THE  EIGHTH. 


•If  Alma,  whilst  the  man  was  young, 
Blipp'd  up  so  soon  into  his  tongue, 
Pleased  with  his  own  fantastic  skill, 
He  lets  that  weapon  ne'er  lie  stilL 
But  one  may  speak  with  Tally's  tongue^ 
Yet  all  the  while  be  in  the  wrong; 
And  'tis  remarkable  that  they 
Talk  most  who  have  the  least  to  say."— 


ARGUMENT. 

"  Now  entertain  conjecture  of  a  time 
When  general  clamour  and  election  fuss 
Fills  the  wide  circle  of  the  commonwealth. 
From  camp-to  camp,  through  borough,  town,  and  ahire, 
The  cry  of  either  party  shrilly  sounds; 
Tongue  answers  tongue,  and  through  their  flaming  print! 
Each  faction  sees  the  other's  brazen  tace. 
Whig  threatens  Tory,  in  defiant  strains 
Dinning  the  public  ear ;  and  on  each  side 
The  Coppocks  and  committees,  for  the  knights, 
In  flys  and  wagons  bringing  voters  up, 
Give  dreadful  note  of  preparation. 
Now  thrive  th'  attorneys ;  and  election  tricks 
Reign  solely  in  the-  thoughts  of  ever  man. 
They  sell  the  manor  now  to  buy  the  seat 
The  candidates  do  treat,  th'  electors  drink 
Till  the  third  hour  of  drowsy  morning  comes. 
And  now  sits  expectation  in  the  air, 
And  holds  a  bag,  stufF'd  to  the  very  mouth 
With  sovereigns,  guineas,  and  with  five-pound  notes, 
Promised  to  voters  and  their  families. 
A  largess  universal,  like  the  sun, 
The  millionaire  doth  give  to  every  one 
Securing  his  return.     Oh,  do  but  think 
You  stand  upon  the  hustings,  and  behold 
An  orator  to  th'  inconstant  rabble  bawling. 
So  swift  a  pace  hath  thought^  that  even  now 


280  THE    UMVEIJSAT.    GENIUS  , 

You  may  imagine  him  at  Westminster, 

With  fatal  mouth  gaping  on  crowded  benches 

Till  all  do  fly  before  him.     Still  be  kind, 

And  eke  out  our  performance  with  your  mind  " 


CHAPTER  L 

THE  TOBACCONIST  OF  CHICUESTEE. 

Ii  was  the  close  of  a  splendid  day,  about  midsummer ;  and  the 
fatigued  shopkeepers  of  the  city  of  Chichester,  like  people  of 
their  class  in  a  thousand  other  places,  were  beginning  to  think 
of  shutting  their  long  opened  windows,  and  betaking  themselves 
to  refreshment  or  repose.  A  street  of  business,  like  a  rookery, 
is  most  noisy  at  the  hour  in  question,  for  though  the  shops  that 
vend  muslins  and  calicos,  or  such  commodities  as  sugar  and  figs, 
usually  close  quietly  enough,  the  goods  being  removable  from 
the  doors  and  windows  without  a  clatter,  it  is  otherwise  with 
the  houses  that  deal  in  iron-mongery,  or  crockery,  for  it  is  the 
nature  of  such  wares  to  ring  and  rattle  abominably  when  the 
articles  come  into  contact ;  not  to  speak  of  the  loud  objurga 
tions  of  the  shopkeepers,  and  the  shriller  scoldings  of  their 
wives,  when  some  awkward  'prentice  drops  a  resounding  fish- 
kettle  or  a  clanging  set  of  fire-irons  from  his  overloaded  hands ; 
or  when  some  still  more  unfortunate  wight  lets  fall  a  pile  of 
plates,  or  teacups,  and  destroys  more  in  a  second  than  his  em 
ployer  has  probably  sold  in  the  course  of  the  day.  The  finer 
the  weather,  the  greater  is  generally  the  hurry-scurry  and  the 
din  accompanying  these  operations,  for  there  is  yet  light  enough 
for  a  good  ramble  in  the  fields,  or  time  to  bathe,  or  to  fish,  or 
play  at  leap-frog,  or  pop  at  the  sparrows;  and  the  youths  who 
have  been  chained  to  the  counter  from  the  rising  of  the  sun  are 
naturally  over-eager  now  to  relax  and  amuse  themselves,  and 
think  they  can  never  scamper  off  fast  enough  with  the  goods, 
or  sweep  away  too  many  things  at  a  time. 

Evening  is  not  so  poetical  a  season  in  many  respects  when  it 
falls  on  the  streets  of  a  town,  as  when  its  shades  gather  round  a 
village  in  the  country  ;  but  it  is  a  time  of  rest  and  recreation  in 
all  places — a  kind  of  little  daily  Sabbath,  uniting  those  whom 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN  281 

the  labours  of  the  clay  have  parted,  gathering  friends  and  re 
lations  in  their  accustomed  groups  again,  bringing  forth  the 
social  flask,  the  economised  pleasantry,  the  suppressed  affection, 
and  the  hoarded  jest.  In  these  respects  it  is  not  to  be  question 
ed  that  "  the  hour  when  daylight  dies  "  is  equally  dear  to  shop 
keeper  and  shepherd,  and  as  charming  in  the  tradesman's  con 
tracted  and  Kidderminstered  parlour,  as  in  the  rosiest  thatched 
cottage,  or  the  picturesque  abode  of  the  Vicar  of  Underwood. 
It  is  the  time  of  the  unwrinkling  of  brows,  the  washing  of 
hands,  and  the  unbending  of  sinews  of  both  mind  and  body ; 
it  is  especially  the  time  lor  the  replenishing  of  that  vacuum 
which  the  nature  of  man  most  devoutly  abhors,  and  happy  are 
they  who  have  wherewithal  to  replenish  it.  We  are  not,  how 
ever,  going  to  relate  how  the  inhabitants  of  Chichester  were  off 
for  provisions  at  this  period  of  our  story,  nor  what  cause  any  of 
them  may  have  had  to  grumble.  We  are  simply  mentioning 
what  these  innocent  country  shopkeepers  were  doing  on  this 
particular  summer  evening;  how  the  curriers,  jumping  out  of 
their  skins,  were  beginning  to  romember  that  there  is  something 
better  in  the  world  even  than  leather ;  how  the  weary  tailors, 
nine  to  the  complete  man,  were  standing  up  to  repose  them 
selves  ;  how  the  baker  was  breaking  the  bread  which  his  hands 
had  kneaded  in  the  morning ;  how,  in  short,  men  of  all  trades 
were  trying,  with  more  or  less  means  of  success,  to  make  them 
selves  comfortable;  but  as  pretty  much  the  same  things  were 
doing,  at  pretty  much  the  same  time  of  day,  in  every  city,  town, 
and  village  in  the  kingdom,  we  may  safely  leave  it  to  the  read 
er's  imagination  to  complete  the  picture. 

As  it  were  expressly  to  make  the  evening  more  delightful, 
there  fell  a  slight  shower  in  the  midst  of  these  various  doings, 
just  enough  to  sprinkle  and  lay  the  dust  (that  troublesome  in 
cident  of  fine  weather),  and  freshen  the  verdure  of  the  neigh 
bouring  fields  and  woods,  whose  leaves  were  scarcely  stirred  by 
the  sparkling  drops,  so  gently  and  graciously  did  they  fall  upon 
them.  The  shower  was  but  an  affair  of  a  few  moments.  When 
it  passed  away,  it  left  the  sky  as  blue  as  before ;  and  the  anxie 
ty  of  the  townspeople  who  meditated  little  excursions  into  the 
suburbs,  was  heightened  in  proportion  to  the  improvement  of 
the  evening's  fascinations. 

One  of  the  shops  earliest  shut  on  the  evening  in  question, 
and  also  one  of  those  whioh  closed  with  the  least  bustle,  was 
that  of  a  tobacconist,  situated  in  one  of  the  chief  streets,  but 


282  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

nearer  to  the  skirts  of  the  town  than  to  its  centre,  and  at  the 
corner  of  a  lane  which  a  quarter  of  a  century  since  was  still 
almost  a  green  one,  through  which,  in  a  wonderfully  short  time, 
you  found  your  way  into  the  region  of  fields  and  gardens,  if  you 
preferred  the  smell  of  the  new-mown  hay  to  the  municipal  per 
fumes,  and  the  song  of  thrushes  and  blackbirds  to  the  music  of 
hurdy-gurdies. 

It  was  a  good  old  house,  in  the  construction  of  which  timber 
and  red  brick  seemed  to  have  been  employed  in  proportions 
about  equal.  An  antique  in  good  preservation,  it  looked  as  if  it 
was  mouldering,  and  yet  as  if  it  would  take  a  long  time  to 
moulder  quite  away  at  the  rate  decay  was  travelling.  It  looked, 
too,  as  if  in  its  old  age  it  was  cherished  and  well  looked  after : 
nothing  was  out  of  repair,  not  a  tile  was  deficient  or  broken  on 
its  steep  roof;  the  windows  were  scrupulously  bright ;  and  the 
painting  of  all  the  woodwork,  though  excessively  grave,  as 
became  the  exterior  of  a  house  of  its  years,  was  at  the  same 
time  perfectly  fresh  and  clean.  Upon  the  whole,  it  had  an  air  of 
not  only  decency  and  respectability,  but  it  might  almost  be  said  of 
goodness ;  for  it  cannot  but  have  been  often  olwerved  that  houses 
have  their  physiognomies  as  well  as  their  inhabitants  ;  though,  no 
doubt,  in  most  cases  it  is  the  character  of  the  man  that  impresses 
itself  upon  the  dwelling,  which  looks  cheerful  or  dismal,  hospi 
table  or  the  reverse,  according  as  it  is  tenanted  by  people  like 
Matthew  Cox  or  men  like  Mr.  Pigwidgeon. 

The  shop  itself  was  utterly  devoid  of  decoration — plate- 
glass  had  not  come  into  general  use,  and  the  tradespeople  of 
that  day  never  dreamed  of  the  twentieth  part  of  the  embellish 
ments  with  which,  now-a-days,  they  lure  customers  to  their 
counters.  However,  even  in  his  own  day,  our  tobacconist's  shop 
was  the  plainest  and  homeliest  shop  in  the  town ;  not  a  bit  of 
brass  was  to  be  seen  nor  an  inch  of  gilding  ;  and  the  doors  and 
windows  were  painted  some  sort  of  snuff-colour,  which,  if  not 
gay,  was  unquestionably  appropriate.  Nor  was  there  any  sign 
or  symbol  of  the  business  vsible  outside ;  no  wooden  Highlander 
stood  sneezing  everlastingly  over  the  door ;  nor  were  even  the 
leaves  of  the  Virginian  weed  depicted  upon  the  posts.  The 
•words  "  Cox,  Tobacconist,"  in  dull  pale  yellow  on  a  dusky  board, 
were  almost  the  only  outward  indication  of  the  traffic  carried  on 
within,  if  we  fexcept  a  few  old  canisters  which  stood  in  the 
windows,  for  the  proprietor  confined  himself  strictly  to  the  sale 
of  snuff,  and  had  no  notion  of  the  exhibition  of  boxes,  with 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  283 

varnished  portraits  of  kings  and  queens,  groups  of  shepherds 
and  shepherdesses,  or  those  grotesque  faces  with  mutually  con 
vertible  chins  and  noses  ;  nothing,  in  short,  that  makes  the  shop 
of  a  snufiman  of  the  present  day  scarcely  distinguishable  from 
the  studio  of  a  Cheapside  miniature-painter. 

The  house  had  two  doors  ;  one  was  the  entrance  to  the  shop, 
and  at  the  angle  formed  by  the  street  and  the  lane;  the  other 
was  private,  situated  in  the  lane,  about  forty  or  fifty  feet  from  the 
corner,  facing  an  old  garden-wall,  over  which  some  laburnums 
were  hanging,  now  almost  past  their  bloom,  forming  a  canopy 
over  that  wooden  bench  upon  which  the  Vicar  found  Mr.  Broad, 
the  worthy  little  cutler,  seated,  in  the  beginning  of  this  narrative. 

The  bench  was  now  occupied  by  three  personages.  About 
two  of  them  there  can  be  no  mistake.  One  was  Mr.  Broad 
himself,  in  the  white  hat  and  nankeen  shorts  which  he  always 
wore  in  the  summer  season  ;  the  second  was  unmistakably  our 
shabby  acquaintance  the  apothecary  ;  and  the  third  was  the 
good-humoured  Alderman  Codd,  who  was  always  so  ready  to 
place  his  subscriptions  and  sympathies  at  Mr.  Broad's  disposal. 
They  were  eagerly  confabulating  together  upon  many  matters, 
but  chiefly  on  the  prospects  of  an  approaching  general  election, 
and  formed  a  striking  little  group  of  provincial  politicians,  sitting 
there  that  fine  evening,  with  the  fading  flowers  of  the  laburnums 
dangling  to  the  crowns  of  their  hats,  and  now  and  then  a  pearly 
drop  of  the  late  shower  falling  on  their  knees,  or  coat-sleeves, 
after  having  gently  trickled  from  leaf  to  leaf,  down  from  the 
uppermost  bough.  Among  other  things,  they  chatted,  as  was 
natural,  about  the  proprietor  of  the  shop  opposite  to  them. 
Mr.  Broad  expatiated  on  his  public  and  private  virtues,  and  pro 
nounced  him  the  best  man  in  Chich ester,  doubting  whether  there 
was  a  better  man  in  all  England. 

u  He  is  one  of  the  richest,  at  all  events,"  said  Mr.  Pigwid- 
geon. 

"  He  is  an  honest  man,  let  him  be  ever  so  rich,"  said  the 
Alderman. 

"  If  he  was  as  rich  as  he  is  good,"  said  the  cutler,  "  he  would 
be  as  rich  as  King  Crcosus." 

"  You  know  more  about  him  than  I  do,"  said  the  apothecary. 

"  Nobody  knows  anything  about  him  but  what's  to  his 
honour  and  credit,"  replied  Mr.  Broad. 

"  He  knew  how  to  make  the  money,  at  all  events,"  said  Mr. 
Pigwidgeon. 


284  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  , 

"  He  made  it  honestly,  and  he  spends  it  generously,"  said 
Mr.  Broad  ;  "  can  any  body  say  to  the  contrary  ?" 

"  Ills  snuff  was  always  snuff,"  said  the  Alderman. 

Just  at  this  moment  the  opposite  door  opened,  and  a  fine  old 
man  made  his  appearance,  whose  countenance  was  sufficient  to 
identify  him  with  the  subject  of  Mr.  Broad's  enthusiastic  praises. 

He  was  an  old  man,  whose  knees  had  not  yet  begun  to 
totter,  nor  his  shoulders  to  stoop  ;  and  his  dress  and  entire  ex 
terior  denoted  the  thriving  tradesman  and  influential  and  wor 
shipful  burgess.  His  hat,  which  now  he  carried  in  his  hand, 
was  broad-brimmed  and  black,  with  something  of  the  form  and 
cock  of  the  hats  worn  by  ecclesiastics.  The  rest  of  his  attire 
was  of  corresponding  gravity ;  it  consisted  of  a  plain  brown 
suit,  with  abundance  of  good  broad-cloth  in  it;  the  collar  of 
his  coat  was  single,  and  the  quaint  pig-tail  nodded  over  it ;  the 
waistcoat  reached  half  way  down  his  thigh  ;  his  roomy  small 
clothes  were  furnished  with  silver  buckles  at  the  knees ;  and 
hose  of  light  grey,  with  a  stout  pair  of  shoes,  well  blacked,  but 
not  shining,  and  also  provided  with  massive  buckles  of  silver, 
completed  his  respectable  attire.  Such  was  old  Matthew  Cox, 
the  opulent  tobacconist  of  Chichester,  the  friend  of  the  Medlicotts, 
the  creditor  of  Bishop  AVyndham,  and  the  kind  benefactor,  as 
well  as  relative,  by  marriage,  of  the  Hopkinses,  which  led  him, 
of  course,  to  take  a  deeper  interest  in  Reuben  than  he  had  ever 
felt  before,  though  always  his  admirer  and  benefactor.  Matthew 
had  been  in  his  youth  a  very  handsome  man  ;  and  he  was  hand 
some  still  in  his  green  and  flourishing  old  age.  His  hair  had 
been  black  as  the  raven's  wing,  but  now  that  glory  was  departed, 
and  his  head  being  uncovered,  you  perceived  that  time  had 
strewn  his  temple'  with  silver,  while  it  filled  his  coffers  with 
gold ;  yet  even  the  silver  was  not  as  abundant  as  it  once  had 
been. 

No  sooner  did  he  appear,  than  Mr.  Broad  and  the  Alderman 
rose,  and  saluted  him  with  equal  respect,  but  each  after  his 
fashion  ;  while  the  apothecary  kept  his  seat,  making  a  gruff  and 
ungracious  return  to  the  civil  nod  of  recognition  with  which  the 
ancient  burgess  honoured  him. 

"  Good  evening  to  you,  Mr.  Broad,"  said  the  old  man,  who 
was  first  to  speak,  "  and  to  you  too,  worthy  Alderman,  and  you, 
Mr.  Pigwidgeon;  a  very  good  evening  to  you  all  three." 

The  Alderman  made  another  civil  obeisance,  and  the  apothe 
cary  repeated  his  ungracious  little  nod.  Mr.  Broad,  always  ready 


OK,  THE   COMES  &   MAK  285 

to  be  the  spokesman  on  such  occasions,  returned  Mr.  Cox  the 
compliments  of  the  evening,  adding 

"And  a  beauteous  evening  it  is,  sir,  after  that  refreshing 
shower." 

"  It  fell  opportunely  for  us,"  said  Mr.  Cox ;  "  my  wife  and  I 
are  going  to  sup,  and  probably  sleep,  at  the  garden  which  I  took 
lately,  between  this  and  Underwood.  We  expect  our  good 
friends,  the  Vicar  and  his  wife,  to  meet  us  there ;  and  if  you 
three  will  walk  with  us  and  join  the  party,  I  promise  you  all  a 
warm  welcome  and  a  hot  supper." 

The  apothecary,  contrary  to  his  usage,  returned  an  am 
biguous  and  surly  answer  to  this  hospitable  invitation,  saying 
that  he  had  still  business  to  transact  in  town,  and  did  not  know 
to  how  late  an  hour  he  might  be  detained  by  it ;  but  Mr.  Broad 
and  the  Alderman  embraced  the  old  man's  proposal  with 
alacrity. 

"  And  we  accept  it  the  more  gladly,"  said  the  former,  "  as 
the  Alderman  and  I  were  waiting  here  expressly  to  see  and  con 
sult  with  you,  sir,  on  a  subject  of  the  greatest  importance  to  a 
common  friend  of  ours,  and  indeed,  I  may  add,  to  the  public  at 
large  at  this  eventful  crisis." 

"  That  you  may  well  call  it,"  said  the  Alderman. 

"  Perhaps  I  guess  what  you  both  allude  to,"  said  Mr.  Cox. 

44  It's  an  eventful  crisis,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Broad;  "that's  all  I'll 
say  on  the  subject  at  this  present  moment." 

"  It  is  an  eventful  crisis,"  said  the  old  man  :  "  I  quite  agree 
with  you." 

"Eventful  crisis!"  muttered  Mr.  Pigwidgeon,  rising  and 
moving  towards  the  town  ;  "there  has  been  an  eventful  crisis 
once  a-year,  at  least,  as  long  as  my  memory  serves  me.  I  see 
nothing  in  this  crisis  more  eventful  than  in  any  other,  except 
that  there  will  probably  be  more  bribing,  and  treating,  and  cor 
ruption  of  every  sort,  at  the  impending  election,  than  ever  there 
was  before  in  this  city  and  county  ;  but,  but  for  my  part,  I  wash 
my  hands  of  it." 

"  The  first  time  I  ever  knew  Pigwidgeon  object  to  treating," 
said  the  Alderman. 

"  To  be  treated,  you  mean,"  said  Mr.  Cox  :  "  but  here  comes 
IMV  wife,  after  keeping  her  old  man  standing  for  half-an-hour  at 
the  door." 

As  soon  as  Mrs.  Cox  appeared,  she  dropped  a  chil  curtsey  to 
Mr.  Broad  and  the  Alderman,  the  former  of  whom  saluted  her 


286  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS', 

in  his  most  antic  manner,  with  one  hand  making  his  hat  pt.^orm 
a  curvet  in  the  air,  with  the  other  twitching  up  one  of  his  long 
coat-tails,  while  with  his  feet  he  kicked  up  a  little  cloud  of  dust, 
in  the  enthusiasm  of  his  politeness. 

There  was  something-  decidedly  Quakerish  about  Mrs.  Cox's 
exterior ;  her  brown  silk  dress  and  her  gray  silk  bonnet  might 
li.tve  passed  in  the  Meeting ;  indeed  it  was  only  from  the  minor 
details,  and  the  use  of  the  plural  pronoun  when  she  spoke,  that 
you  discovered  she  did  not  actually  belong  to  the  Society  of 
Friends.  She  had,  however,  been  a  Quakeress  in  her  time,  and 
was  come  of  worthy  and  excellent  people,  the  Ilopkinses  and 
Pen  roses  of  Devonshire,  a  race  not  more  distinguished  by  their 
mercantile  enterprise  and  success  than  by  their  indefatigable 
exertions  in  the  cause  of  humanity  and  civilization  all  over  the 
globe.  The  Komillics  and  the  Clarkson's  knew  them  well ;  but 
though  their  history  is  worth  writing,  it  cannot  be  given  here. 
The  evening  advances  rapidly,  and  the  old  man  is  impatient  to 
proceed.  His  wife  took  his  arm  conjugally,  as  if  she  had  a  right 
to  it,  and  a  right  she  was  proud  to  exercise.  Then  the  order  to 
march  was  given,  and  the  married  couple  led  the  way  to  the  gar 
den,  followed  by  the  Alderman  and  the  cutler,  the  latter  talking 
indefatigably  on  the  subject  of  the  election,  and  thanking  Provi 
dence  at  every  third  step  that  Mr.  Medlicott  had  not  set  out  on 
his  projected  lecturing  tour  in  the  United  States. 


CHAPTER  IL 
A  SUMMER  EVENING'S  WALK. 

THE  way  to  the  garden  consisted  almost  entirely  of  a  crooked 
series  of  green  lanes,  winding  through  orchards  and  meadows ; 
sometimes  passing  a  nest  or  a  row  of  cottages,  sometimes  con 
ducting  to  a  substantial  farm  or  a  villa  of  some  pretension.  At  a 
short  distance  from  town  stood  three  extremely  neat  little  houses 
covered  with  roses,  two  of  them  joining  one  another,  the  third 
separated  by  a  paddock,  but  at  a  neighbourly  distance.  From 
the  lane  they  were  divided  by  small  enclosures,  full  of  flowers, 
particularly  the  detached  one,  which  was  so  very  full  that  you 
could  scarce  see  the  smallest  patch  of  the  earth  which  yielded 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  287 

them.  This  row  of  cottages  had  been  built  by  Doctor  Wynd- 
ham,  and  had  lately  come  into  Mr.  Cox's  possession,  together  with 
other  property  (including  the  more  imposing  structures  at  Here 
ford),  in  satisfaction  of  the  pecuniary  obligation  under  which  the 
Bishop  stood  to  the  wealthy  tobacconist,  as  has  been  recorded  in 
the  beginning  of  these  memoirs.  No  landlord  was  ever  more 
particular  about  the  character  of  his  tenants  than  old  Matthew  ; 
but  in  him  this  arose  far  less  from  anxiety  about  his  rents,  than 
from  his  desire  to  be  connected  in  every  relation  of  life  with  res 
pectable  and  worthy  people.  As  to  those  cottages,  he  would 
sooner  have  pulled  them  down  than  have  let  them  to  anybody 
whom  he  did  not  believe  deserving  of  a  settlement  in  so  pretty  a 
colony  ;  and  one  of  them  had  actually  been  untenanted  for  some 
months,  because  the  proprietor  had  not  yet  met  with  an  offer 
from  a  quarter  he  approved.  The  insulated  cottage  was  called 
Maryland,  in  compliment  to  Mary  Medlicott;  for  Mr.  Cox  had 
virtually  settled  it  upon  her  on  her  marriage,  not  so  much,  how 
ever,  in  the  hopr-s  of  Reuben  ever  making  so  humble  a  spot  his 
permanent  residence,  as  to  provide  a  comfortable  retreat  and 
asylum  near  her  friends  for  the  venerable  Quaker-mother  during 
the  remnant  of  her  days.  Mrs.  Hopkins  was  established  there 
already,  and  though  her  dauglrter  was  with  her  husband  in  Lon 
don,  the  old  woman  neither  complained  of  her  solitude,  nor,  in 
deed,  found  it  irksome, — her  flowers  were  such  agreeable  company, 
and  she  was  so  proud  to  reflect  that  she  was  mother-in-law  to 
the  most  promising  man  of  the  age. 

\\  hat  was  now  in  agitation  among  Mr.  Medlicott's  friends  at 
Chichester  was  to  procure  him  a  seat  in  Parliament,  and,  if  pos 
sible,  for  that  city.  Mr.  Cox,  Mr.  Broad,  and  the  Alderman, 
talked  of  nothing  else  during  their  walk,  Mr.  Broad  being  of  the 
three  the  most  energetic  and  enthusiastic  on  the  subject,  the 
idea  having  originated  in  his  ardent  mind,  which  gave  him  a 
kind  of  parental  interest  in  the  scheme.  He  had  almost  brought 
himself  to  think  that  the  very  existence  of  the  renowned  British 
empire  depended  upon  Reuben's  introduction  into  the  House ; 
and,  such  is  the  contagion  of  honest  zeal,  not  a  day  passed  with 
out  his  making  some  new  convert  to  that  opinion,  extravagant 
as  we  must  admit  that  it  was.  Mr.  Cox  had  been  brought  round, 
not  without  some  difficulty,  and  even  now,  although  he  concurred 
in  the  design,  it  was  with  morft  moderate  expectations  than  Mr. 
Broad  cherished,  and  not  without  some  doubt  on  his  mind  that 
Parliament  was  a  hazardous  enterprise  for  a  man  like  Mr.  Medli- 


288  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

cott,  without  a  square  inch  of  patrimony,  and  with  little  more 
than  the  name  of  a  profession.  Mr.  Cox,  however,  saw  clearly 
that  Reuben  was  not  destined  ever  to  be  a  working  lawyer,  and 
he  was,  therefore,  the  more  easily  persuaded  to  assist  in  placing 
him  in  a  new  sphere,  and  giving  his  talents  another  trial.  Al 
though  politically  opposed  to  the  objects  of  that  memorable  de 
monstration  at  Chichester,  where  Reuben  had  delivered  his  maiden 
speech,  old  Matthew  had  attended  the  meeting  expressly  to  hear 
his  young  friend's  oratory,  had  heard  it  with  extreme  delight, 
and  fallen,  with  many  other  people,  into  the  serious  mistake  of 
conceiving  platform  success  to  be  proof  of  parliamentary  ability. 
A  complete  change  of  parties  had  taken  place  since  that  time. 
The  question  of  reform  had  brought  Reuben  and  Mr.  Cox  into 
harmony  again,  so  that  there  was  no  inconsistency  in  the  part 
which  the  latter  was  now  taking  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  was  a  junc 
ture  when  opulent  and  influential  men  of  Mr.  Cox's  class  were 
everywhere  on  the  look-out  for  rising  talents  and  promising 
abilities, — for  "  coming  men,"  in  short,  to  wield  the  new  powers 
with  which  the  democracy  was  now  invested,  and  turn  the  im 
proved  representation  of  the  people  to  immediate  practical  account. 
Every  one,  of  course,  had  his  own  favorite  question,  or  questions. 
Mr.  Cox,  for  example,  having,  with  his  naturally  strong  and 
shrewd  understanding,  early  in  life,  grasped  the  great  principle  of 
free  trade,  was,  perhaps,  more  anxious  upon  that  subject  than 
any  other ;  but  he  was  also  led  by  his  family  connections  with 
the  sect  of  Quakers  to  take  a  lively  interest  in  the  abolition  of 
slavery  in  the  West  Indies,  prison  reform,  and  some  other  ques 
tions  of  the  same  philanthropic  character.  Mr.  Broad  was  more 
bent  upon  reforming  the  Church,  and  restoring  Poland  to  inde 
pendence,  in  which  objects  he  was  followed  most  obsequiously  by 
Alderman  Codd,  who,-  however,  entertained  a  private  opinion 
(which  he  sometimes  took  occasion  to  broach),  that  the  grand 
measure  to  look  forward  to,  in  the  Reformed  Parliament,  was  the 
paying  oft'  the  National  Debt. 

"  There  is  plenty  of  work  to  be  done,"  said  Mr.  Cox,  as  they 
moved  along,  enjoying  the  fragrance  of  the  fields,  and  the  even 
ing  song  of  the  thrushes  and  the  blackbirds  :  "  we  only  want  the 
men  to  do  it." 

"  The  men  will  not  be  wanting,  sir,"  said  the  Alderman,  "  I'll 
answer  for  it." 

"  You'll  answer  for  it,"  repeated  the  little  cutler,  mockingly  ; 
"  it's  easy  to  say  that ;  but  when  a  man  is  to  be  found  equal  to 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  289 

the  work,  will  you  put  your  hand  in  your  pocket,  and  come 
down  with  the  dust  ?" 

"  I  was  never  backward  to  come  forward,  when  I  once  saw 
my  way  clear  before  me,  and  nobody  knows  that  better  than 
you,  Mr.  Broad.  Didn't  I  sympathise  with  the  Poles,  when  you 
asked  me  ?  Didn't  I  sign  the  petition  to  expel  the  bishops  from 
the  House  of  Lords  ?  And  now  let  me  tell  you,  if  a  hundred 
pounds,  or  so,  is  wanting  to  bring  Mr.  Reuben  Medlicott  in  for 
this  city,  or  any  place  else,  on  the  popular  interest,  there  is  not  a 
man  in  Chichester  will  give  it  more  cheerfully  than  I  will ;  only 
I  hope  Mr.  Medlicott  will  be  prepared  to  atswer  a  question  I 
shall  feel  it  my  duty  to  ask  him  on  thej  subject  of  the  National 
Debt." 

"  Ask  him  what  questions  you  like,"  said  Mr.  Broad,  "  and  I 
warrant  you  will  get  your  answer.  I  have  heard  my  distin 
guished  frier  1  talk  for  an  hour  on  that  very  subject,  and  about  the 
currency,  sir,  and  the  sinking-fund,  and^the  one-pound  notes." 

"  I  doubt,  Alderman,"  said  old  Matthew,  "  if  the  question  of 
the  National  Debt  is  as  pressing  just  now  as  some  others  I  could 
mention." 

"  The  Church,  sir,  and  the  dangerous  power  of  Russia,"  said 
Mr.  Broad  eagerly. 

Old  Matthew  smiled,  and  the  cutler  perceiving  it  drew  in  his 
horns,  and  proceeded  to  candidly  admit  that  the.  Corn  Laws  and 
Negro  Emancipation  were  also  very  proper  objects  to  engage  the 
attention  of  Parliament. 

*'  In  my  opinion,"  said  the  Alderman,  "  we  ought  to  pledge 
our  representatives  to  everything." 

"  Pledge  them  to  nothing,  I  say,"  said  Mr.  Cox ;  "  let  us 
look  for  the  honestest  and  ablest  men  we  can  get,  agreeing  as 
nearly  as  possible  with  ourselves  in  the  general  principles  of  lib 
eral  policy,  and  then  let  us  leave  their  discretion  absolutely  un 
fettered, — that  seems  to  me  to  be  the  wisest  course,  and  the  most 
constitutional." 

"  It  stands  to  reason,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Broad. 

"  Well,"  said  the  Alderman,  "  I  think  there  are  two  pledges, 
at  least,  that  ought  to  be  required  from  every  member  of  Par 
liament." 

Mr.  Cox  asked  him  what  pledges  he  meant. 

"  Never  to  be  absent  from  the  house  while  the  Speaker  is  in 
the  chair,  and  to  speak  upon  every  interesting  aud  important 
question." 

18 


S90  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

Mr.  Cox  shook  his  head  and  laughed. 

"I  am  afraid,"  he  said,  "there  would  be  more  talking  than 
doing,  Alderman,  if  your  principle  was  carried  out" 

"  My  principle  is,"  said  the  Alcierman,  "  that  the  Government 
is  for  doing,  and  the  Parliament  for  talking; — that's  my  idea  of 
the  British  Constitution,  which  I  once  heard  Mr.  Medlicott  him 
self  say  was  '  the  envy  of  surrounding  nations  and  the  wonder 
of  the  world.' " 

"And  it  was  an  original  and  eloquent  observation,  sir,"  said 
Mr.  Broad, — "  it's  eloquence  we  want,  sir,  and  eloquence  we 
must  have.  The  House  of  Commons  is  not  a  Quaker's  meeting 
house,  humbly  begging  ^Irs.  Cox's  pardon  for  the  remark,  which 
I  make  with  no  disrespect  for  the  Quakers, — a  sect  which  no 
body  honours  more  than  I  do."  Here  he  drew  up  to  make  one 
of  his  ludicrous  bows,  and  again  kicked  up  a  cloud  of  dust  with 
his  too  active  politeness. 

"  You  were  treading  op  dangerous  ground,"  said  old  Matthew, 
smiling,  "  but  you  have  brought  yourself  off  very  cleverly,  we 
must  confess,  and  I  dare  say  my  wife  will  forgive  you  this 
time." 

"  I  doubt  if  I  shall,"  said  Mrs.  Cox,  "  for  Mr.  Broad  speaks 
as  if  there  was  no  such  thing  as  an  eloquent  Quaker  ;  and  I  can 
assure  him  I  have  heard  in  my  time,  not  only  eloquent  Quakers, 
but  eloquent  Quakeresses, — what  does  he  say  to  that  ?" 

"  Eloquence  is  a  strong  word,  Rachael,"  said  her  husband, 
shaking  his  head. 

"  When  I  said  eloquent,  Matthew,"  she  answered,  "  I  meant 
Friends  who  could  hold  forth  for  a  long  time  together,  and  talk 
very  loud,  though  we  did  not  always  perfectly  understand  what 
they  said,  and  sometimes,  I  am  afraid,  it  came  in  at  one  ear  and 
went  out  at  the  other." 

"  Long,  loud,  and  incomprehensible  ;  there,  gentlemen,  is  my 
vife's  notion  of  eloquence  for  you,"  said  Mr.  Cox,  laughing. 

"  Well,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Cox,  "  I  never  could  understand 
ooor  Hannah  Hopkins,  although  I  did  my  best,  and  she  was 
very  large  in  the  ministry  and  considered  very  eloquent.  Some 
people  thought  she  did  not  always  understand  herself." 

"I  heard  her  preach  once,"  said  Matthew  ;  "it  was  all  about 
Daniel  in  the  den  of  lions,  and  I  very  well  remember  how  she 
^nded  her  sermon. — '  I  don't  know,  she  said,  whether  you  under 
stand  me.  It  is  very  likely  you  donl ;  but  I  know  myself  what 
I  mean."*  « 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  291 

Apropos  to  Hannah  Hopkins,  the  pedestrians  were  now  very 
near  her  cottage,  and  a  little  consultation  took  place  whether  she 
should  be  invited  or  not  to  join  the  party.  It  was  decided  in  the 
negative,  no  doubt  for  sufficient  reasons,  and  Mr.  Cox  was  anx 
ious  to  pass  by  without  being  observed  by  the  Quaker-mother ; 
but  that  was  out  of  the  question,  for  she  was  sitting  at  her  door 
knitting  and  enjoying  the  wilderness  of  sweets  in  her  little- gar 
den.  Mr.  Cox,  no  longgr  holding  his  wife's  arm,  was  now  lead 
ing  the  way,  with  his  hands  clasped  behind  his  back,  as  his  man 
ner  was,  and  looking  straight  before  him  in  the  most  determined 
manner. 

"  Matthew  Cox,  Matthew  Cox,  dost  thou  hear  me,  friend 
Matthew  ?" 

He  was  defeated,  and  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  surren 
der  at  discretion,  which  he  and  his  worthy  wife  did  with  the  best 
grace^and  all  their  natural  cordiality,  desiring  Hannah  to  put  her 
things  on  at  once,  and  accompany  them  to  Virginia  to  supper. 

"  And  Mr.  Broad  and  the  Alderman  will  see  thee  safe  at  home 
again,  Hannah,"  said  Matthew,  "  if  thou  wilt  trust  thyself  with 
such  gay  fellows." 

"Thank  thee  kindly,  friend  Broad: — friend  Codd,  thou  art 
always  kind  and  obliging." 

Mr.  Cox  offered  her  his  arm,  but  she  declined  the  attention, 
to  keep  her  hands  free  for  her  needles,  which,  had  they  been 
worked  by  machinery,  could  not  have  been  plied  more  uninter- 
mittingly. 

"  I'll  walk  by  thy  side,  Matthew,"  she  said,  "  and  enjoy  and 
profit  by  thy  conversation." 

The  wild  flowers,  however,  were  continually  seducing  her 
from  the  path  of  rectitude.  At  last  she  nettled  her  hand  in 
grasping  a  dog-rose,  and  Matthew  had  to  gather  dock-leaves  to 
cure  her,  promising  her,  at  the  same  time,  abundance  of  flowers 
from  his  garden,  and  bidding  her  trouble  herself  no  more  about 
the  weeds  in  the  hedges.  This  quieted  her,  but  she  carefully 
stuck  the  dock-leaves  into  her  nosegay,  and  soon  forgot  all  other 
subjects  of  interest  in  talking  of  Reuben  and  Mary,  from  both  of 
whom  she  had  a  pocketful  of  letters,  which  she  would  have  stop 
ped  to  read  on  the  roadside  if  Mr.  Cox  had  encouraged  her.  She 
gratified  Mr.  Broad,  however,  by  letting  him  see  Reuben's  hand 
writing,  which  he  happened  never  to  have  seen  before,  and  now 
pronounced  to  be  decidedly  the  hand  of  a  man  of  genius.  "The 
hand  of  a  statesman,  sir ;  not  of  a  writing-master  " — and  Alder- 


292  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

man  Codd  was  compelled  to  agree,  though  he  had  certainly  no 
v*r  seen  the  hand  of  a  statesman  before. 


CHAPTER  IIL 

• 

PLEASUEE  BEFORE  BUSINESS. 

VIRGINIA,  or  the  snuff-box,  as  the  wits  of  Chichester  used  to  call 
it,  was  a  mere  garden,  covering  about  an  acre  of  ground,  with  a 
neat  lodge  or  cottage  in  the  middle  of  it.  From  the  road,  or 
lane,  it  was  separated  by  a  high  wooden  paling,  in  which  there 
was  a  small  gate,  or  rather  door,  provided  with  a  bell,  hung  in 
the  most  beautiful  belfry  you  can  imagine,  among  the  boughs  of 
a  magnificent  horse-chestnut,  now  covered  with  its  fine  hyacinth- 
Ine  flowers  in  all  their  summer  glory.  Mr.  Cox  pulled  the  cord, 
or  wire,  and  the  first  answer  he  received  was  the  deep  bark  of 
his  great  dog  Constable,  a  terror  not  only  to  the  evil-doers  of  all 
the  country  round,  but  also  to  many  who  were-  not  evil-doers, 
especially  the  Quakers,  who  always  shuddered  at  his  voice,  and 
were  miserable  until  they  were  assured  that  he  was  chained  up 
in  the  securest  manner. 

"  He  is  not  the  most  amiable  dog  in  the  world,  I  must  own," 
said  Matthew,  "  but  he  defends  the  cucumbers  and  the  strawber 
ries  :  we  must  give  him  credit,  Hannah,  for  that." 

"  A  good  public  officer,  though  a  bad  family-dog,"  said  a  famil 
iar  voice  on  the  other  side  of  the  doort  which  was  instantly 
opened  by  our  old  friend  the  Vicar,  who  had  already  arrived  at 
the  hospitable  rendezvous. 

"  I  hope  you  are  -not  alone,"  said  Mr.  Cox,  shaking  the  Vi 
car's  hand  heartily. 

"  Very  far  from  it,"  said  his  reverence ;  "  there  are  more  of 
us  than  I  believe  you  bargained  for ;  but  a  couple  of  friends  gave 
us  an  agreeable  surprise  this  morning  at  breakfast,  and  we  ven 
tured  to  bring  them  with  us,  hoping  to  give  you  an  equally  agree 
able  surprise  this  evening  at  supper." 

The  next  moment  produced  Mrs.  Medlicott  from  behind  a 
rcreen  of  bushes,  accompanied  bv  Hyacinth,  Mr.  Primrose,  and 
Dr.  Page. 

The  visit  of  the  latter  to  Chichester  was  merely  in  perform- 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  293 

ance  of  his  long-standing  promise  to  spend  a  few  days  with  his 
friend,  the  Vicar ;  but  it  proved  exceedingly  opportune  for  Reu 
ben,  for  his  greatest  enemy  was  a  man  with  whom  nobody  was 
so  fit  to  grapple  as  the  Doctor ;  and,  moreover,  it  required  all 
the  influence  of  so  old  a  friend  and  crony  as  Page  to  overcome 
the  Vicar's  repugnance  to  the  new  rig  (as  he  called  it),  which  his 
son  was  about  to  run,  instead  of  working  steadily  at  something 
or  another  to  provide  for  his  wife  and  children. 

The  Doctor  was  the  same  pleasant,  confident,  hearty,  ener 
getic,  ready  fellow,  in  the  same  flagrantly  unmedical  costume  as 
when  we  last  saw  him  on  the  Welch  mountains ;  b'ut  there  was 
a  decided  change  visible  in  Hyacinth,  and  the  Vicar  had  noticed 
it  the  moment  he  saw  him ;  it  was  not  in  his  figure,  for  a  few 
years  had  not  much  increased  his  portliness,  nor  in  his  face,  for 
that  wore  its  habitual  agreeable  air  of  "  genteel  comedy,"  nor  in 
his  manners,  for  they  were  airy  and  mercurial  as  ever ;  it  was  al 
most  entirely  in  his  dress,  which  was  a  complete  suit  of  black, 
although  he  was  not  in  mourning.  In  fact,  Mr.  Primrose  was  on 
the  point  of  taking  orders,  and  we  may  add  (although  it  was  then 
still  a  secret  from  the  world),  on  the  point  of  taking  a  wife  also ; 
it  having  been  arranged  that  he  was  to  espouse  the  Church  and 
widow  at  the  same  time, — a  species  of  bigamy  which  the  bishop 
was  so  far  from  disapproving,  that  he  had  already  promised  him 
his  domestic  chaplaincy  and  the  first  vacant  living:  so  much  bet 
ter  than  Reuben  did  Hyacinth  understand  the  art  of  thriving  by 
his  versatility. 

Primrose,  however,  while  about  to  take  that  comfortable 
place  in  the  favour  of  fortune  which  Mr.  Medlicott  spurned,  felt 
it  the  more  his  duty  to  interest  himself  in  his  friend's  success  in 
the  "more  hazardous  enterprise  he  was  now  engaged  in.  If  he 
had  been  rich,  he  would  have  spent  his  money  freely  in  Reuben's 
cause ;  as  he  was  not,  he  did  all  that  was  in  his  power  to  do,  by 
promptly  and  zealously  complying  with  Mi's.  Mountjoy's  request, 
that  he  would  hasten  to  Chichester,  and  take  care  that  her  ne 
phew's  promotion  in  the  world  should  not  be  stopped  for  the 
want  of  a  few  hundred  pounds. 

While  daylight  lasted,  which  was  not  very  long,  the  party 
rambled  about  the  garden,  sometimes  pairing  off,  sometimes 
meeting  in  knots  where  the  alleys  crossed,  and  eagerly  confabu 
lating  all  together.  Dr.  Page  was  pleased  with  Dr.  Cox ;  Mr. 
Primrose  was  enchanted  with  Mr.  Broad  ;  Mrs.  Medlicott  found  a 
patient  listener  in  the  Alderman ;  the  Vicar  and  Mrs.  Cox  had 


THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

long  been  the  best  friends  in  the  world.  Everybody,  in  short, 
was  charmed  with  everybody,  which  is  not  always  the  case  in 
more  distinguished  assemblies.  In  truth  it  was  an  election-com 
mittee,  and  nothing  else,  so  much  did  the  election  and  Reuben's 
prospects  engross  the  conversation,  until  at  length  Mrs.  Medlicott 
(who  looked  on  the  party  in  that  light  only)  became  so  excited, 
and  talked  so  volubly  and  so  wildly  about  this  borough  and  that 
borough,  the  subscriptions  to  be  raised,  the  speeches  to  be  made, 
the  agents  to  be  employed,  what  she  was  resolved  to  do  herself, 
and  what  she  thought  everybody  else  ought  to  do,  that  it  ended 
in  her  vehemence  and  prolixity  completely  bothering  and  disgust 
ing  the  men  of  the  party,  especially  her  husband,  who  protested, 
as  soon  as  supper  was  announced,  against  hearing  any  more  on 
the  subject,  appealing  to  Hannah,  Hopkins  whether  there  was 
not  "  a  time  for  all  things." 

Mrs.  Medlicott  was  most  indignant  at  this  appeal  to  the  Quaker 
ess,  towards  whom  she  still  entertained  a  grudge,  for  her  share 
in  Reuben's  marriage.  Her  eyes  flash  eji  green  fire  at  poor  Mrs. 
Hopkins;  at  least  it  looked  green,  through  the  medium  of  her 
spectacles ;  but  in  truth  Mrs.  Hopkins  was  as  little  tired  of  the 
discussion  as  herself:  only  the  good  old  woman  knew  no  more 
about  elections  and  boroughs  than  the  man  in  the  moon. 

The  supper  was  a  good  specimen  of  the  domestic  arrange 
ments  of  the  Coxes,  of  which  extreme  neatness  and  simplicity 
were  the  sensible  and  agreeable  characteristics.  Matthews's 
Quaker  marriage  had  been  a  source  of  great  comfort  and 
rational  enjoyment  to  him  all  through  life ;  it  brought  the  best 
members  of  that  excellent  sect  about  him,  and  it  gave  him  what 
mere  wealth  would  not  have  given,  the  cheap  luxuries  of  order 
and  cleanliness  in  perfection.  Cleanlines  is  as  inherent  in  the 
Quakers  as  a  sect,  as  it  is  in  the  Dutch  as  a  nation.  Rachel  Cox 
was  not  excelled  in  this  respect  by  the  most  exemplary  house 
wife  in  all  Holland.  The  only  dust  in  her  house  was  the  snuff 
in  her  husband's  canisters,  and  the  very  sight  of  her  table  lent 
a  zest  and  piquancy  to  the  plainest  food  that  was  laid  upon  it. 

It  was  comparatively  easy  to  avoid  talking  of  election  mat 
ters,  but  absolutely  impossible  to  avoid  talking  of  Reuben,  when 
so  many  of  his  devoted  admirers  were  present,  and  when  his 
very  absence,  as  usual,  made  him  only  the  more  thought  of. 
Mr.  Primrose  had  never  heard  Reuben  speak  in  public.  Mr. 
Broad  gave  him  a  delicious  account  of  the  speech  at  the  Free 
masons'  Tavern,  and  this  =st  every  tongue  going  upon  the  tire- 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  295 

eorne  cause  of  Poland,  until  the  Vicar  was  as  much  bored  by 
this  new  topic  as  he  before  had  been  by  the  general  election. 
He  was  meditating  how  to  effect  a  division  without  offending 
anybody,  when  his  end  was  answered  by  old  Mrs.  Hopkins, 
who,  bemg  always  fond  of  hearing  learned  discussions,  was  now 
suddenly  seized  with  a  desire  to  hear  the  opinions  of  the  com 
pany  on  the  nature  of  sympathy :  "  for,"  said  she,  "  my  Mary 
and  I  have  puzzled  our  brains  many  and  many  a  time  about  it, 
and  we  were  never  the  wiser  for  our  pains.  What  iost  thou 
think,  friend  Primrose  ?" 

Primrose  was  almost  too  much  amused  lo  answer;  but  at 
length  he  said,  "  that  sympathy  was  one  pole  of  an  animal-mag 
net  ;  antipathy  was  the  other."  • 

The  question  was  then  passed  to  Mrs.  Medlicott,  who  had 
been  disagreeably  silent  on  ceasing  to  be  disagreeably  loquacious; 
but  now,  being  under  the  necessity  of  speaking  and  maintaining 
her  philosophical  reputation,  she  assumed  her  most  didactic  tone, 
and  replied,  "  that  it  was  a  very  abstruse  subject,  more  abstruse 
than  probably  Mrs.  Hopkins  had  any  notion  of; — there  was  a 
great  deal  about  it  in  Kant's  philosophy ;  more,  indeed,  than 
she  was  disposed  herself  to  concur  in  ;  she  hardly  hoped  to  be 
perfectly  understood ;  but  the  view  she  was  disposed  to  take 
was,  that  sympathy  was  that  which  formed  the  species,  while  it 
absorbed,  or,  in  a  transcendental  sense,  annihilated  the  indivi 
dual." 

"There,  Madam,  I  must  make  bold  to  differ  from  you,"  cried 
the  Alderman,  "  for  when  I,  as  an  humble  individual,  sympathised 
with  the  Poles,  at  the  urgent  request  of  my  friend  beside  me,  I 
was  certainly  not  annihilated,  for  here  I  am  to  say  so." 

"But  you  were  absorbed,  sir, -were  you  not?"  said  Primrose, 
with  a  side-glance  at  Mrs.  Medlicott,  as  if  he  fully  participated 
in  the  contempt  which  her  countenance  already  showed  she  en 
tertained  for  the  simple  Alderman. 

"  Yes,  you  were  absorbed,  Alderman, — I  must  do  you  th.3 
justice  to  say  you  were  absorbed,"  said  Mr.  Broad. 

The  Alderman  "owned  the  soft  impeachment;"  and  now 
it  came  to  poor  Mrs.  Cox's  turn,  who  soon  gave  the  riddle  up, 
with  a  despairing  sigh,  which  made  everybody  laugh  ;  the  Vicar, 
however,  maintained  that  it  was  a  capital  practical  definition. 

"  What  dost  thou  say  thyself,  friend  Thomas  ?" 

"  Well,  Hannah,"  replied  the  Vicar,  laying  down  his  knife 
and  fork,  and  looking  as  metaphysical  as  he  could ; — "  Well, 


296  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

Hannah,  let  us  see — What  is  sympathy  ?  Now  suppose  I  was 
just  now  to  feel  an  inclination  for  a  glass  of  this  old  port,  and 
that  you  were  to  feel  at  the  same  time,  or  that  I  were  to  inspire 
you  with  a  wish  to  have  a  glass  too — I  should  be  strongly  dis 
posed  to  say  that  waS*  sympathy." 

Mr.  Cox  filled  the  Qakeress's  glass  to  the  brim. 

"  Our  host's  port,  Hannah,  is  better  than  my  philosophy," 
said  the  Vicar,  drinking  to  he<|  and  laying  down  his  glass. 

"  I  like  friend  Matthew's  port,  and  I  like  thy  philosophy," 
said  the  old  woman,  growing  mellow  rapidly ; — "  dost  thou 
remember  the  fable  of  the  shepherd  and  the  philosopher  ?  My 
Mary  would  be  happy  to  repeat  it  for  thee,  if  she  was  here." 

Mrs.  Cox  was  so  good-natured  to  Mrs.  Hopkins,  or  so  cruel 
to  her  company,  as  to  express  a  hope  that  Hannah  would  favour 
the  company  with  the  fable  herself,  in  her  daughter's  absence; 
and  beyond  a  doubt  the  hope  wou'd  have  been  indulged,  had 
not  Mrs.  Medlicott  (who  was  in  no  very  equable  temper  after 
the  dry  rub  her  husband  had  given  her  before  supper)  risen 
from  the  table  abruptly,  and  with  a  most  unconvivial  allusion  to 
the  progress  of  time,  put  an  end  to  the  merry  meeting. 

"  We  have  spent  a  very  pleasant  evening,"  said  the  Vicar, 
putting  on  his  hat. 

"  A  little  business,  in  my  opinion,  might  have  been  mixed 
with  the  pleasure,  at  a  moment  like  this,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott 
bitterly,  and  putting  on  her  bonnet. 

"  Morning  is  the  time  for  business,"  said  her  husband. 

"  I  agree  with  his  reverence,"  said  old  Matthew. 

The  Doctor,  as  a  medical  man,  was  of  the  same  opinion.  Mr. 
Broad  agreed  with  the  Doctor,  and  the  Alderman,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  concurred  entirely  with  Mr.  Broad.  The  result  of  this 
general  concurrence  was  an  arrangement  to  meet  for  the  dispatch 
of  business  at  breakfast  the  following  morning,  at  the  Vicarage. 
It  was  not,  however,  understood  that  either  Mrs.  Hopkins  or  Mrs. 
Cox  should  attend  the  committee ;  and  the  Vicar  would  not  have 
been  displeased  if  his  wife  could  have  been  included  in  the  same 
understanding. 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  297 


CHAPTER  IV. 

FBIENDS   IX   COUNCIL. 

THE  Vicar  was  quite  right.  Evening  is  the  time  for  pleasure, 
and  morning  is  the  time  for  affairs.  Reuben's  little  committee 
of  friends  got  through  more  business  round  the  breakfast-table  in 
a  couple  of  hours,  than  they  could  have  transacted  at  supper  in 
twice  the  space  of  time ;  nor  did  any  of  the  party  sincerely  regret 
that  Mrs.  Medlicott  was  prevented  from  appearing  in  consequence 
of  an  attack  of  rheumatism,  brought  on  by  walking  home  from 
supper  in  the  night  air. 

"  Let  us  begin  with  the  finances,"  said  Mr.  Cox.  "  It  is  not 
the  fault  of  us,  reformers,  if  elections  are  not  to  be  conducted 
without  money.  As  things  are,  however,  it  is  out  of  the  ques 
tion.  Bribery  will  never  be  encouraged,  or  sanctioned  by  me, 
either  in  Chichester  or  elsewhere  ;  but  an  election,  under  existing 
circumstances,  involves  other  expenses  of  no  inconsiderable 
amount,  and  for  those  we  must  provide  in  the  first  instance. 
Supposing  a  contest  to  take  place,  what  surap Broad,  do  you 
think  we  shall  have  occasion  for — to  meet  the  legitimate  ex 
penses  ?" 

Mr.  Broad  thought  a  thousand  pounds  would  bring  his  illus 
trious  friend  into  Parliament  for  his  native  city. 

The  Alderman  sensibly  remarked,  that  legitimate  expense 
was  a  very  indefinite  thing  ;  he  should  not  like  to  engage  in  a  con 
test,  unless  there  was  at  least  a  couple  of  thousand  in  the  purse. 

The  Vicar  was  afraid  that  so  large  a  sum  might  be  a  tempta 
tion  to  cross  the  boundary  between  the  legitimate  expenses  and 
the  illegitimate. 

"  That  can  be  provided  against,"  continued  the  Alderman, 
"  by  placing  the  purse  in  the  hands  of  somebody  of  such  rigid 
probity  as  to  remove  all  fear  upon  that  score." 

"  If  Mr.  Cox  will  be  treasurer,"  said  the  Vicar,  "  I  waive  my 
objection." 

Mr.  Primrose  here  sagaciously  interposed,  observing  that  it 
would  be  unfair  to  impose  such  a  heavy  duty  on  Mr.  Cox,  and 
suggesting  that  Mr.  Broad  should  carry  the  bag. 

The  little  cutler  jumped  up,  then  sa£  down,  fidgeted  in  his 
chair,  thanked  Mr.  Primrose,  and  was  manifestly  pleased  at  being 
nominated  to  the  office. 
13* 


298  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS) 

"  But,"  said  he,  "the  responsibility  will  be  too  much  for  the 
shoulders  of  an  humble  man  like  me ;  I  hope,  gentlemen,  you 
will  give  me  a  colleague." 

"  I  am  sure,"  said  Hyacinth,  "  my  friend  Dr.  Page  won't 
object  to  be  named  along  with  you." 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  shall  be  most  happy,"  said  the  confident 
Doctor ;  and  as  nobody,  of  course,  had  any  objection  to  make, 
Mr.  Primrose  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  financial  arrange 
ments  placed  in  the  hands  of  two  of  Reuben's  most  enthusiastic 
and  least  scrupulous  friends.  The  Vicar  and  Mr.  Cox  were  com 
pletely  hoodwinked ;  and,  indeed,  neither  the  cutler  nor  the 
I/octor  had  a  notion  of  what  Hyacinth's  drift  was  in  making  them 
joint-treasurers ;  but  Hyacinth  knew  who  was  who,  and  what 
•was  what,  better  than  anybody  at  the  table. 

"  Now,  to  raise  the  money,"  said  the^  Alderman. 

Primrose  took  out  his  pocket-book,  and  held  his  pencil  in 
readiness  to  enter  the  subscriptions. 

"  Put  down  three  hundred  for  me,"  said  Mr.  Cox. 

The  Vicar  rose  from  the  table  to  conceal  his  emotion  at  old 
Matthew's  liberality,  which  he  knew  had  its  source  in  the  strength 
of  his  private  flfections.  He  then  left  the  room  to  acquaint  his 
wife  with  Mr.  Cox's  munificence.  While  he  was  absent,  Mr. 
Broad  subscribed  two  hundred,  the  Alderman  one ;  and  then 
Mr.  Cox,  putting  his  hand  into  his  pocket  with  solemnity,  pro 
duced  two  letters  he  had  received  that  very  morning.  One  was 
from  a  Quaker  bookseller  in  London,  no  other  than  our  friend 
Harvey,  who  had  levied  contributions  to  the  extent  of  six  hun 
dred  pounds  from  members  of  the  Society  of  Friends  in  the  me 
tropolis,  interested  in  the  cause  of  universal  philanthropy,  and 
anxious  to  have  it  eloquently  represented  in  Parliament.  The 
other  was  a  communication  from  Mrs.  Winning,  of  Sunbury,  sub 
scribing  a  hundred. 

"  We  have  one  thousand,  three  hundred  already,"  said  Prim 
rose,  entering  the  sums ;  "  and  I  am  authorised  by  another  Lon 
don  bookseller,,  Mr.  Trevor,  to  put  down  his  name  for  any  sum 
n<>t  exceeding  a  hundred.  Master  Turner  will  give  the  same,  and 
Lord  Maudlin  will  go  as  far  as  three,*if  we  want  it.'' 

"  Who  the  deuce  is  Lord  Maudlin  ?"  cried  Dr.  Page. 

If  you  had  but  seen  Mr.  Broad's  looks  and  gesticulations  at 
such  a  question  !  • 

"  Lord  Maudlin,  sir,"  he  replied,  with  ludicrous  energy,  "  is 
i  ppssible,  sir,  you  don't  know  who  Lord  Viscount  Maudlin  is  ? 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN.  299 

Why.  sir,  it  was  his  lordship  who  took  the  chair  at  that  great 
meeting  in  London  on  behalf  of  unfortunate  Poland,  where  Mr. 
Reuben  Medlicott  made  that  famous  speech,  which  I  had  the 
r  leasure  and  honour  of  hearing.  Why,  ,sir,  he  spoke  upon  that 
grand  occasion  for  two  mortal  hours  and  a  half  without  ever 
drawing  his  breath." 

"  Quiet,  Broad,  quiet  now,"  said  Mr.  Cox,  gently  tapping 
him  on  the  shoulder  ;  "  keep  to  the  point,  or  we  shall  never  get. 
through  business.  How  much  have  we  now,  Mr.  Primrose  ?" 

"  One  thousand,  eight  hundred,"  said  Hyacinth,  totting  his 
entries. 

"  Which  I  am  ready  to  make  the  square  two  thousand,"  said 
Di.  Page.  lie  had  scarcely  spoken  when  a  servant  came  in  and 
presented  Mr.  Medlicott  with  a  letter.  It  was  from  the  Earl  of 
Stromness,  and  assured  the  Vicar  that  if  the  contest  for  Chiches- 
ter  took  the  turn  it  threatened  to  take  at  that  moment,  he  would 
be  very  happy  to  support  his'son,  and  would  willingly  bear  a 
reasonable  share  of  the  expense  of  his  election. 

"  We  shall  have  too  much  money,"  said  the  Vicar. 

"  No  harm  in  a  little  surplus,"  said  the  Doctor. 

"  The  only  man  who  ever  finds  a  surplus  troublesome  is  the 
Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,"  said  Primrose. 

So  little  was  he  perplexed  himself  by  the  superabundance  of 
resources,  that  it  made  him  very  comfortable  to  think  he  had 
Mrs.  Mountjoy's  contribution  quietly  in  reserve.  He  said  nothing 
about  it  for  fear  of  alarming  the  Vjcar  still  more,  but  determined 
to  put  i+  privately  into  the  Doctor's  hands,  having  little  doubt  a 
necessity  would  practically  arise  for  relaxing  the  strict  rules  of 
morality  for  which,  in  theory  (he  flattered  himself),  he  enter 
tained  as  profound  a  respect  as  any  man. 

"  Now,"  said  Mr.  Cox,  addressing  Mr.  Broad,  "  now  I  give 
you  your  freedom ;  if  you  have  anything  to  say  on  the  subject  of 
our  friend  Reuben's  qualifications  for  Parliament,  we  are  ready 
to  hear  you."  He  laid  a  gentle  emphasis  on  the  word  "qualifi 
cation"  in* this  sentence. 

"  He  has  every  possible  qualification,"  cried  the  zealous  cutler. 
"  Let  any  man  get  up  and  say  what  qualification  he  wants." 

Primrose  shook  his  head. 

"  I  arn  afraid,"  said  he,  "  I  must  respectfully  differ  from  Mr. 
Broad,  though  I  entertain  so  high  an  opinion  of  my  friend's 
abilities  ;  but  I  have  a  letter  from  himself  upon  the  subject ;  you 
shall  all  hear  what  he  says." 


300  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

"  The  modesty,  sir,  that  always  accompanies  distinguished 
merit,"  said  Mr.  Broad. 

Primrose  smiled,  and  road  Reuben's  letter  to  the  company, 
which  soon  enlightened  Mr.  Broad  as  to  the  nature  of  the  quali 
fication  that  was  now  in  question. 

The  Vicar  disliked  evading  the  law,  although  an  unreasonar.ie 
and  absurd  one. 

Mr.  Primrose  suggested  that  a  successful  evasion  of  the  law 
could  never  be  a  wrong  proceeding,  for  it  could  only  succeed  by 
being  beyond  impeachment ;  and  if  unimpeachable  by  law,  it 
was  permissible  by  law,  and  therefore  legal  in  the  strictest  sense 
of  the  word. 

Mr.  Broad  applauded  this  reasoning  highly ;  but  Matthew 
Cox  looked  sceptical,  and  smiled,  adding,  however,  that  a  way 
had  occurred  to  him  by  which  Reuben  could  be  provided  with  a 
bona-ncle  property  qualification,  though  he  was  unaule  to  say 
more  on  the  subject  at  that  moment.  Perhaps  the  gentlemen 
would  refer  that  subject  altogether  to  him.  With  the  advice  of 
his  lawyer,  he  trusted  to  settle  it  satisfactorily. 

This  matter  having  been  disposed  of,  it  seemed  as  if  every 
thing  had  been  done  that  could  be  done  at  present,  when  it  sud 
denly  occurred  to  Mr.  Primrose  that  Reuben's  consent  had  not 
yet  been  formally  asked  to  stand  for  Chichester. 

"  We  must  write  to  him  to  come  down  at  once,"  said  Mr. 
Cox. 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  Primrose ;  "  in  my  opinion,  instead  of 
asking  him  to  come  down  to  you,  some  of  you  ought  to  go  up 
to  him." 

"  Hear  Mr.  Primrose,"  cried  Broad,  lustily. 

"  Hear,  hear,"  re-echoed  the  Alderman. 

"  Hear,  hear,"  cried  another  and  a  strange  voice,  a-t  some 
little  distance.  It  was  Sirach  the  raven,  wh  j  had  just  hopped  in 
through  an  open  window,  and  who  had  never  forgotten  the  cry 
since  he  first  learned  it,  when  Dr.  Pigvvidgeon  delivered  Reuben's 
speech  from  the  pear-tree. 

"  My  advice  is  a  deputation,"  said  Mr.  Broad  ;  and  the  gene 
ral  opinion  being  in  favour  of  that  measure  (the  Vicar  alone  dis 
sentient),  a  deputation  was  then  and  there  resolved  on,  to  consist 
of  Mr.  Broad,  the  Alderman,  and  another  influential  citizen, 
whose  co-operation  might  be  relied  on.  Mr.  Broad  was  for  set-  • 
ting  out  that  very  evening,  but  the  following  morning  was  ulti 
mately  fixed  on ;  and  it  was  also  agreed  to  keep  the  entire  affair 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  301 

as  quiet  as  possible  for  the  present.  Mr.  Cox  and  Primrose 
pressed  this  strongly. 

"  Especially  from  Mr.  Pigwidgeon,"  said  Doctor  Page. 

"  From  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  above  all  men,"  said  Mr.  Cox. 

"  Mum's  the  word,"  said  Mr.  Broad ;  but  before  the  sun 
went  down  upon  Chichester,  nobody  in  that  city,  who  was  in  a 
position  to  know  anything  of  such  matters,  was  ignorant  of 
what  Mr.  Medlicott's  friends  were  about,  or  of  the  important 
embassy  that  was  going  up  to  London. 


CHAPTER  V. 

SIRACH,    THE    EAVEN. 

"A  rixfl  old  bird,  that  raven  of  yours,  Mr.  Medlicott,"  said 
Primrose,  as  they  sat  under  the  walnut-tree,  after  sunset,  that 
same  evening;  "a  fine  old  bird ;  what  may  his  age  be  ?" 

"  Unknown,"  said  the*Vlcar ;  "  I  had  him  from  my  prede 
cessor  in  this  living,  who  told  me  he  received  him  from  his  pre 
decessor,  who  told  him  the  same  story.  When  I  came  first  to 
Underwood,  there  was  an  ancient  gravedigger  here — his  own 
grave  ha&.  since  been  dug — from  whom  I  learned  that  he  re 
membered  Sirach  as  long  as  he  remembered  anything  connected 
with  the  parish ;  and  when  he  first  knew  the  bird,  one  of  his 
phrases  was  Old  Noll — he  used  to  cry  Old  Noll — from  which 
I  infer  that  Sirach  could  tell  us  something  about  the  Common 
wealth  if  he  was  disposed  to  be  "communicative.  I  sometimes 
say  t<,  my  wife,  that  it  is  not  impossible  he  may  have  seen  '  the 
Good  Parson.' " 

"  I  should  say  he  certainly  has,  sir,"  said  Primrose. 

"Sees  him  every  day,"  said  Dr.  Page. 

The  Vicar  acknowledged  the  compliments  of  his  guests  with 
a  bow  and  a  smile,  while  Primrose  began  to  speculate  upon  the 
notion  of  the  raven  writing  his  memoirs. 

"  What  an  historian  he  would  make,  with  his  old  experience, 
if  he  would  only  pluck  a  quill  from  his  own  wing  and  give  us 
his  personal  reminiscences." 

"The  annals  of  a  single  vicarage,"  said  Mr.  Medlicott, 
"  would  doubtless  be  a  vr^uable  supplement  to  general  ecclesi- 


302  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ] 

astical  history,  as  well  as  an  acceptable  addition  to  our  know 
ledge  of  domestic  life  and  manners.  I  wish  we  could  induce 
Siraeh  to  undertake  it." 

"Is  he  conscientious?"  asked  Primrose. 
"  For  a  raven,"  said  the  Vicar ;  "  but  I  fear  a  comparison 
with  other  fowl  would  not  be  much  in  his  favour  ;  in  fact,  were 
he  to  apply  himself  to  literature  with  his  present  habits,  I' should 
be  apprehensive  of  his  being  detected  in  a  plagiarism  now  and 
<hen." 

"  I  daresay,"  said  the  Doctor,  laughing  already  at  the  re 
mark  he-was  about  to  make,  "he  has  not  lived  so  long  among 
Churchmen  without  having  learned  how  to  feather  his  nest." 

"Take "care  of  yourself,  Doctor,"  said  Hyacinth,  "take  care 
what  you  say  of  the  Church  ;  we  are  three  to  one  on  the  pre 
sent  occasion,  for  I  reckon  Sirach  an  ecclesiastic." 

"  He  may  know  how  to  feather  his  nest,"  said  the  Vicar, 
"  and  he  does  know  how ;  but  he  has  only  one  to  feather ;  he 
is  no  pluralist,  let  me  tell  you,  any  more  than  myself;  nor  was 
he  ever  proceeded  against  by  the  Ordinary  for  non-residence. 
He  passes  his  life  pretty  much  as  his  master  does,  between  this 
garden  and  that  consecrated  ground  ^>nder,  behind  thos_  yews, 
where  he  spends  much  of  his  lime  of  late,  particularly  towards 
the  dusk,  hopping  and  croaking  among  the  graves ;  probably 
communing  with  those  who  sleep  there,  and  informin&'  tliem, 
out  of  his  prophetic  spirit,  how  soon  it  will  be  my  Lt  lo  join 
them,  and  his  to  be  raven  to  a  new  incumbent." 

"  flue  omnes  coyimur"  said  Primrose,  with  a  sigh  that  re 
sponded  to  that  with  which  the  Vicar  had  ended  his  speech. 
"  The  house  that  lasts  till  doomsday,"  said  the  Doctor. 
The  Vicar  then  related  how  Sirach  had  first  learned  to  cry 
"  here,  here,"  like  a  parliament  man. 

"  A  taste  for  eloquence  in  a  raven,"  said  Primrose,  "  is  not 
more  surprising  than  a  taste  for  poetry  in  an  ass.  Ammonius, 
a  philosopher  of  the  Greek  empire,  had  an  ass  who  had  such 
a  love  of  poetry,  that  he  would  forbear  eating  his  provenaer 
rather  than  withdraw  his  attention  from  a  poem  read  to  him. 
The  story  is  told  by  Photius." 

"  For  the  edification  of  the  marines,  I  presume,"  said  the 
Doctor. 

Here  the  party  was  joined  by  Mrs.  Medlicott,  which,  as  usual, 
put  an  end  to  all  rational  conversation.  She  dashed  at  once 
into  the  cont-oversy  between  reason  and  instinct,  uttering  such 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  303 

a  farrago  of  hard  words,  and  odds  and  ends  of  metaphysical 
disquisitions,  bringing  in  Malebranche  head  and  ears,  and  even 
going  the  unfeminine  length  of  talking  of  "  aesthetics,"  which 
was  her  husband's  horror,  that  it  was  a  general  relief  to  her 
audience  when  the  bells  of  Chichester,  tolling  the  hour  of  nine, 
and  distinctly  audible  in  the  stillness  of  a  summer  evening, 
interrupted  the  lecture. 

The  delighted  Vicar  held  up  his  finger,  inviting  attention, 
while  the  clock  of  St.  Martin's  commenced  the  concert,  with  a 
voice  of  profound  solemnity.  St.  Mary's  followed  with  a 
plaintive  sweetness,  like  a  snatch  of  psalmody,  as  if  its  bells 
were  of  silver.  Before  she  was  quite  done,  St.  Olave  took  up 
tV,  tale ;  .but  ere  it  was  half  told,  St.  Peter  the  Great  came 
cl  iming  in  so  sonorously  that  St.  Olave  might  just  as  well 
\  ave  remained  mute.  At  this  point  the  humble  clock  of  Un 
derwood  struck  modestly  in,  only  louder  than  its  brazen  brother 
hood,  because  it  was  so  near  at  hand.  After  this  there  vas  one 
moment's  intense  silence ;  and  then  spoke  out  St.  Andrew, 
sending  his  nine  piercing  notes  into  the  sky  so  very  hastily, "that 
you  fancied  he  was  trying  to  overtake  the  others,  or  that  he  had 
suddenly  awoke,  and  was  impatient  to  have  done  with  his  task 
and  go  to  sleep  again.  He  was  the  last  of  the  ecclesiastical 
clocks ;  and  as  to  the  civilians,  they  wer§  scarcely  worth  sitting 
to  listen  to,  with  the  exception  of  an  old  cuckoo  in  the  Vicar's 
kitchen,  which  sang  out  the  usual  hour  of  supper  so  sweetly 
and  naturally,  that  you  could  scarcely  have  .heard  it  at  any  sea 
son  of  the  year  without  thinking  it  was  the  warm  month  of 
June,  and,  in  truth,  it  was  generally  sultry  weather  in  the  place 
where  that  cuckoo's  note  came  from. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

IN  WHICH  A  DISCOVEEY  IS  MADE  THAT  8URP8ISE8  EVERYBODY. 

MR.  HYACINTH  PRIMROSE  and  Dr.  Page  were  now  such  good 
friends,  with  such  a  mutual  elish  for  one  another,  that  they  were 
pleased  to  find  there  was  a  door  between  their  bed-rooms,  which 
they  had  only  to  open  of  a  morning,  to  converse  together  while 
they  were  dressing.  The  windows  of  both  apartments  opened 
upon  a  sort  of  balcony,  about  which  a  luxuriant  vine  clambered, 


304  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

and  over  which  the  thatch  projected  pretty  far.  To  throw  these 
windows  open,  and  admit  the  fragrant  air,  occasionally  even  pop 
ping  out  on  the  balcony,  and  taking  a  view  of  the  garden  and 
the  picturesque  church-yard  fast  by  it,  was  a  very  agreeable  mit 
igation  of  the  troubles  of  the  toilette,  a  business  which,  with  Mr. 
1 'rim rose  particularly,  was  always  a  tedious  and  grave  one.  On 
the  third  day  of  their  visit  to  Underwood,  the  Doctor  and  Hya 
cinth  were  dressing  as  usual,  availing  themselves  of  the  social 
advantages  of  their  quarters,  and  discussing  Mr.  Medlicott's 
chances  and  prospects,  when  Hyacinth,  who  had  stepped  out  for 
a  moment  into  the  open  air,  suddenly  drew  back,  and  with  the 
utmost  surprise,  delight,  and  curiosity  depicted  in  his  counte 
nance,  ran  into  the  Doctor's  room,  exclaiming, 

"Good  Heavens,  Page!  come  here, —  see  this!  Such  "an 
animal ! — I  had  no  notion  there  existed  such  a  creature  in  the 
whole  animal  kingdom." 

Page  concluded  from  the  hue  and  cry  that  some  rhinoceros, 
or  ourang-outang,  must  have  escaped  from  a  menagerie  in  the 
neighbourhood.  Hyacinth  led  him  out  on  the  balcony,  and 
through  the  tangled  branches  of  the  vine,  pointed  with  his  finger 
to  an  object  in  the  garden,  nearly  opposite  them,  which  the  mo 
ment  the  Doctor  got  a  distinct  view  of,  he  recognised  without  the 
least  difficulty  as  his  o!4  acquaintance,  and  the  object  of  his  ever 
lasting  aversion — the  apothecary. 

"He  is  more  like  an  exaggerated  father-long-legs,  than  any 
thing  else,"  said  Primrose.  "  Medlicott  often  tried  to  describe 
him  for  me,  but  in  vain  ;  he  beggars  description." 

"  You  don't  much  admire  his  exterior,"  said  the  Doctor. 

"  The  most  ungainly,  the  ugliest  I  ever  set  my  eyes  on,"  said 
Primrose. 

"  There  is  something  uglier,  nevertheless,"  said  the  Doctor. 

"What  can  that  be?"  said  Hyacinth. 

"  His  interior,"  said  the  Doctor,  v.d  then  he  made  Primrose 
acquainted  with  all  that  he  knew  of  Pigdwigeon's  antecedents, 
after  which  Primrose  told  him  of  his  juvenile  performance,  enti 
tled  "  The  Country  Apothecary,"  founded  entirely  upon  the  ac- 
"count  he  had  received  from  Reuben,  and  which  had  appeared 
witJj  other  literary  freaks  and  follies,  in  the  MS.  periodical  of 
which  they  had  been  joint-editors  at  school. 

"Has  the  rogue  any  local  influence  in  Chichester?"  inquired 
Page,  adjusting  his  green  silk  carvat,  which  made  a  lively  con 
trast  with  his  red  waistcoat. 


OR,  THE   COMING  MANV  305 

"I  fancy  he  has  some,"  replied  Primrose;  "  I  believe  he  has 
Borne  interest  or  share  in  the  '  Chichester  Mercury ;'  I  have  heard 
something  to  that  effect, — a  sleeping  partner  probably." 

"  1  am  sorry  to  hear  it,"  said  the  Doctor,  "and  I  only  wish  he 
was  asleep  in  reality,  just  at  the  present  moment,  for  if  he  has 
the  means  of  mischief  in  his  power,  he  is  not  the  man  to  let 
them  lie  idle;  however,  if  he  is  disposed  to  be  troublesome,  I'll 
prepare  a  composing  draught  for  him,  that  will  keep  him  quiet 
enough." 

"  We  shall  have  him  at  breakfast,  I  presume,"  said  Prim 
rose. 

"  N  doubt,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  but  my  company  won't  im 
prove  hio  appetite,  I  promise  you." 

They  went  down  together,  and  found  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Medlicott 
ami  the  apothecary  in  the  parlour.  Whatever  business  Mr.  Pig- 
w'dgeon  had  with  the  Vicar  had  been  deferred  until  after  break 
fast  ;  a  postponement  proposed  by  the  latter,  to  which  the  former 
had  made  no  objection.  His  visit  had  surprised  Mr.  Medlicott 
not  a  little,  for  there  had  been  a  coolness  between  him  and  the 
apothecary  for  several  years,  in  fact  ever  since  the  public  meeting 
at  Chichester,  when  the  Vicar  had  good  reason  to  suspect  Mr. 
Pigwidgeon  had  played  him  false,  respecting  the  publication  of 
Reuben's  speech. 

"  Mr.  Pigwidgeon — Dr.  Page,"  said  the  Vicar,  shrewdly  ob 
serving,  as  he  spoke,  the  effect  of  the  introduction  upon  the  for 
mer.  It  was,  comic  enough,  but  obviously  not  the  comedy  of 
"  The  Agreeable  Surprise "  to  one  of  the  parties,  although  the 
apothecary  did  not  cower  before  the  Doctor  to  the  degree  that 
the  latter  had  led  Primrose  to  expect. 

"  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  and  Dr.  Page  are  already  acquainted,  I  be 
lieve,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott. 

"  I  have  the  pleasure  of  knowing  Dr.  Page,"  muttered  the 
apothecary,  in  a  low,  dogged  tone  of  voice. 

The  Doctor  repeated  the  same  formula,  only  substituting 
"honour"  for  "pleasure,"  with  a  dry  emphasis  on  the  word. 

Mr.  Pigwidgeon's  appetite,  too,  was  in  much  better  order 
than  Page  had  predicted,  and  the  Doctor  himself  had  practical 
proof  of  it,  for  a  cold  round  of  beef  stood  before  him,  to  which 
the  apothecary  paid  jnarked  attention,  utterly  regardless  of  the 
trouble  which  he  gave  the  carver,  upon  whom  he  made  repeated 
calls,  with  the  utmost  coolness  and  effrontery.  In  fact  Mr.  Pig- 
widgeon  made  such  a  hearty  breakfast,  that  Mr.  Primrose  began 


306  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

Jo  suspect  the  Doctor  had  grossly  exaggerated  the  flaws  in  his 
moral  character,  if  there  was  any  reliance  to  be  placed  upon 
Bishop  Wyndham's  theory  of  the  connection  between  a  good 
appetite  and  a  clear  conscience. 

The  Doctor  at  length,  having  thrice  helped  the  apothecary  to 
the  beef,  and  being  apprehensive  of  another  demand,  bethought 
him  of  a  little  stratagem  to  save  himself  from  further  trouble, 
and  in  pursuance  of  his  scheme  began  to  talk  about  medical 
reform,  maliciously  stating  that  he  had  heard  and  believed  it 
was  the  intention  of  Government  to  issue  a  commission  to  in 
quire  into  the  management  of  infirmaries  and  dispensaries. 

"  And  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  will  be  glad  to  hear,"  added  Page, 
"  that  the  inquiry  is  to  be  retrospective  and  most  searching,  prob 
ing  everything  to  the  bottom,  sparing  nobody,  and  followed  by 
prosecutions  in  every  case  of  jobbing  brought  to  light." 

"I'll  try  another  slice  of  that  capital  round,"  said  the  apothe 
cary. 

The  Doctor  was  obliged  to  drop  his  own  knife  and  fork, 
which  he  had  just  commenced  using,  and  again  minister  to  the 
wants  of  the  imperturbable  Mr.  Pigwidgeon. 

"  I  rejoice,"  said  the  Vicar,  "  to  hear  of  the  surgeons  being 
cut  up,  and  the  doctors  getting  a  pill." 

"  The  inquiry  will  be  no  joke  to  some  people,  you  may  de 
pend  upon  it,"  resumed  Page,  returning  to  his  own  plate. 

I'll  trouble  you  for  the  mustard,  Doctor,"  said  Mr.  Pigwid 
geon  again,  with  inimitable  sang  froid. 

The  Doctor,  rinding  his  adversary  impregnable,  either  by 
dint  of  his  impudence  or  through  the  vigour  of  his  appetite,  said 
no  more,  but,  as  the  best  way  of  concealing  his  discomfiture, 
transferred  his  personalities  to  the  round  of  beef,  while  Mrs. 
Medlicott  began  to  talk  to  the  apothecary  about  his  son. 

"  It  was  a  long  time,"  she  said,  "  since  she  had  had  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  him — she  hoped  he  was  attentive  to  his  pro 
fession." 

"  Well,  I  can't  say  that  he  is  more  attentive  than  other 
people,"  replied  the  apothecary,  very  disagreeably. 

"  Humph,"  said  the  Vicar,  perceiving  the  hit  at  his  own  son. 

"But  I  hope  he  is  not  idle,"  continued  Mrs.  Medlicott,  not  as 
sharp  as  her  husband  with  all  her  mental  superiority. 

"  I  suppose  if  he  is  not  doing  one  thing  he  is  doing  another," 
said  tlie  apothecary  in  the  same  unpleasant  and  somewhat  mys 
terious  manner. 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  307 

<J  I  hope  and  trust  so,"  said  the  lady  ;  "  I  take  a  great  inter 
est  in  your  son.  indeed  I  do,  Mr.  Pigwidgeon ;  and  you  know 
I  always  said  he  had  talent- — it  only  wanted  awakening."  She 
touched  her  forehead  as  she  spoke,  to  show  that  she  was  still  as 
great  a  phrenologist  as  ever,  and  knew  the  precise  longitude  and 
latitude  of  all  the  provinces  of  the  understanding  delineated  upon 
the  globe  of  the  skull. 

"  It  is  only  justice  to  say,  ma'am,  that  you  always  did  ;  and 
time  will  tell,"  answered  Mr.  Pigwidgeon. 

"At  all  events,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott,  still  further  to  prove  the 
interest  she  continued  to  take  in  Dr.  Pigwidgeon,  "  he  has  friends 
to  do  something  for  him, — who  knows,  for  instance,  but  Reuben 
himself  may  have  it  in  his  power  to  be  of  use  to  him  one  of 
these  days  ?" 

The  apothecary  was  as  proud  as  he  was  shabby,  and  it  is 
hard  to  describe  how  this  most  injudicious  speech  galled  him. 
lie  tried  to  reply,  but  his  voice  stuck  in  his  throat,  with  the  irri 
tation  of  his  feelings.  The  Vicar,  however,  who  was  equally  dis 
pleased  for  different  reasons,  came  to  his  relief  with  a  sharp  re 
buke  to  his  wife's  arrogwice,  telling  her  that  Reuben  was  just  as 
likely  to  want  Dr.  Pigwidgeon's  services  as  Dr.  Pigwidgeon  to 
want  Reuben's.  Mrs.  Medlicott  was  forced,  in  common  polile- 
ness,  to  admit  that  this  was  true ;  but  in  doing  so,  she  committed 
herself  again  by  broadly  alluding  to  Reuben's  parliamentary  in 
tentions — the  subject,  of  all  oAers,  which  she  should  not  have 
touched  upon  in  the  presence  of  the  apothecary,  the  most  noto 
rious  gossip  in  the  whole  county  of  Sussex.  The  Vicar  tried  to 
give  her  a  little  admonitory  kick  under  the  table,  but  he  was  on 
the  opposite  side,  and  his  legs  were  too  short  to  reach  her. 

Perhaps  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  did  not  comprehend  the  allusion, 
broad  as  it  was ;  but  whether  he  did  or  not,  a  dry  cough  was  the 
only  notice  he  took  of  Mrs.  Medlicott's  last  observation,  accom 
panying  it  with  a  request  for  a  final  cup  of  tea. 

The  conversation  would  now  have  ceased,  if  it  had  not  sud- 
denly  occurred  to  Mr.  Primrose  that  he  had  seen  the  name  of  a 
Dr.  Pigwidgeon  lately  mentioned  in  one  of  the  London  news 
papers  in  connecti9n  with  a  celebrated  Irish  borough,  lie  im 
mediately  asked  the  apothecary  whether  his  Dr.  Pigwidgeon  was 
identical  with  "the  gentleman  who  was  "  up  for  Blarney."  Never 
did  Mrs.  Medlicott  lay  her  spectacles  down  with  such  nervous 
haste,  as  she  did  when  the  apotlecary,  glowing  with  paternal  pride, 
and  at  the  same  time" all  shaking  with  excitement,  answered, 


808  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  | 

"  I  have  the  honour,  sir,  to  be  father  to  that  gentleman." 

The  revelation  very  naturally  surprised  everybody. 

"  I  trust  the  news  is  true,"  said  the  Vicar,  frankly  and  good- 
naturedly. 

"  It's  true,  and  it's  not  true,"  said  the  apothecary. 

"  That's  an  enigma  we  must  beg  of  you  ta  explain,"  said  the 
Vicar. 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  Mr.  Pigwidgeon. 

"  I  was  never  so  amazed  in  all  my  life,"  said  Mrst  Medlicott. 
Everything  she  said  that  morning  was  mal-d-propos  as  possible. 

"  I  see  nothing  so  amazing  in  my  son  coming  into  Parlia 
ment,  Madam,"  said  the  apothecary,  regarding  her  bitterly  and 
speaking  in  a  sort  of  slow  growl. 

"Nothing  whatever,"  said  the  Vicar,  heartily  ;  "your  son  is 
a  very  eloquent  man,  we  all  know,  and  I  don't  see  why  he  should 
bury  his  talent  more  than  anybody  else." 

Mrs.  Medlicott  hastened  to  say  something  to  the  same  effect 
(for,  in  truth,  she  had  still  some  sparks  left  of  her  old  intel 
lectual  tendresse  for  Theodore,  and  was  pleased  as  well  as  aston 
ished  at  what  she  had  heard),  but  it  was  too  late  ;  the  ipothe- 
cary  rose  from  the  table,  and  after  taking  a  profusion  of  snuff, 
followed  the  Vicar  into  his  study  to  discuss  the  business,  what 
ever  it  was,  that  brought  him  to  the  Vicarage  that  morning. 

Page  proposed  a  cigar  to  Primrose  under  the  walnut-tree, 
and  the  proposition  was  gladly  a^epted,  particularly  as  a  mode 
of  escape  from  Mrs.  Medlicott,  who,  if  she  had  ceased  twaddling 
about  politics,  would  have  infallibly  commenced  twaddling  about 
something  else. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  ?"  said  the 
Doctor,  lighting  his  Havana. 

"He  is  a  man,"  said  Mr.  Primrose,  "  take  him  for  all  in  all,  I 
trust  I  shall  never  see  his  like  again.  Can  it  be  possible  he  is 
rich,  he  looks  such  a  miserably  poor  devil  ?" 

"  A  devil,  but  anything  but  a  poor  one,"  said  Page. 

"  What  puts  borough-mongering  in  the  head  of  such  a  man 
as  that  ?"  said  Hyacinth  ;  "  I  thought  it  was  too  high  a  species  of 
jobbing  for  so  low  a  fellow." 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  said  the  Doctor ;  "  it  is  the  only  description 
of  knaveryTie  has  not  yet  practised,  and  he  wants*  to  be  perfect 
in  every  branch  of  the  art." 

It  was  a  short  colloquy,  for  it  ended  here.  Before  the  half 
of  their  cigars  was  turned  into  smoke  and  ashes,  they  saw  the 


OK,  THE   COMING  MAN.  309 

apothecary  sneaking  off  through  a  door  in  the  hedge  ;  and  the 
Vicar  rejoined  them,  puffing  and  blowing.  Short  as  his  inter 
view  had  been  with  his  visitor,  it  was  evident  something  had  oc 
curred  at  once  surprising  and  vexatious,  and  his  friends  were  not 
long  in  ignorance  of  the  truth. 

"  A  pretty  kettle  of  fish,"  quoth  the  Vicar,  panting.  It  may 
have  been  remarked  that  this  was  a  favourite  phrase  of  his. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?"  asked  the  Doctor. 

"  Why,  that  booby  of  a  son  of  his  is  not  going  to  stand  for 
Blarney,  after  all,"  replied  the  Vicar,  still  out  of  breath. 

"  What  is  that  to  yon,  or  to  ine  ?"  said  Page. 

"  But  he  is  going  to  stand  for  Chichester — for  Chichester 
against  Reuben,"  said  the  Vicar,  almost  in  a  scream,  and  staring 
at"  the  Doctor  energetically. 

"  No  !" — cried  Page — "  you  don't  say  so  ! — that's  too  good." 

"  He  came  to  solicit  my  vote  and  interest— die  came  to  can 
vass  me,  sir." 

"  In  earnest  ?" — cried  Page. 

"  Perfectly  in  earnest,  and  they  are  in  the  field  before  us,  let 
me  tell  you ;  here's  Dr.  Pigwidgeon's  address  to  the  electors, 
actually  in  print,"  and  he  pulled  out  of  his  pocket  as  he  spoke,  a 
printed  hand-bill,  with  which  the  apothecary  had  just  presented 
him. 

"  And  Parliament  was  dissolved  yesterday,  and  the  writ  will 
be  down  before  you  can  say  Jack  Robinson,"  continued  Mr. 
Medlicott,  recollecting  by  degrees  all  he  had  heard. 

Doctor  Page  now  jumped  up,  uttering  a  variety  of  exclama 
tions,  mingled  with  a  few  oaths  of  no  very  profane  character,  but 
mostly  appeals  to  "  Jove  and  Jingo,"  "  Lord  Harry,"  and  "  All 
that's  lovely  ;"  ending  by  vigorously  buttoning  his  coat,  and 
heartily  abusing  the  Vicar,  Mr.  Primrose,  himself,  and  everybody, 
for  passing  their  time  lounging  in  the  garden,  smoking  cigars, 
and  chatting  about  a  worthless  old  raven,  when  so  much  was  to 
be  done,  and  there  was  so  little  time  to  do  it  in. 

"  My  wife  was  right,  after  all,"  said  the  Vicar,  looking  a  little 
ashamed  of  himself. 

"  By  the  Lord  Harry,  she  was,  sir,"  said  the  Doctor. 

"  Here  comes  the  lady  herself,"  said  Primrose." 

"  That's  always  the  case  with  my  wife,"  said  the  Vicar,  "  the 
moment  she  is  mentioned  she  is  sure  to  appear." 

The  news  struck  Mrs.  Medlicott  like  a  thunderbolt,  and  after 
inveighing  against  the  ingratitude  and  presumption  of  her  old 


310  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

pupil,  in  the  strongest  terms  permissible  to  a  woman's  lips,  she 
vented  all  the  indignation  she  had  remaining  upon  her  husband, 
and  by  implication  upon  his  friends,  for  being  so  remiss  white 
the  foe  was  so  active. 

"  Well,  Madam,  we  shall  do  better  in  future,"  said  the 
Doctor. 

"  Indeed  I  hope  so,  Dr.  Page,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott,  rather 
imperiously,  "  there  is  work  for  everybody — I  was  at  mine  early 
this  morning.^  Here  is  an  aJdress  which  I  have  written  for 
Reuben ; — you  never  thought  of  this,  I  venture  to  say,  Mr. 
Medlicott." 

The  Vicar  stood  aghast  at 'the  woman's  presumption,  while 
the  Doctor  and  Mr.  Primrose  furtively  exchanged  looks  of  nearly 
equal  alarm,  well  justified  by  the  very  bulk  of  the  papers  Mrs. 
Medlicott  held  in  her  hand,  big  enough,  in  fact,  to  be  the  manu 
script  of  a  pampfclet. 

It  was  hard  to  know  what  to  say,  or  what  to  do.  The  Vicar 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  said  the  address  was  the  most  ticklish 
thing  of  all,  and  thought  it  ought  to  be  left  to  Reuben  himself, 
who  would  probably  arrive  in  the  course  of  the  evening.  Fortu 
nately  he  got  into  an  altercation  with  his  wife  upon  this  point, 
which  enabled  the  Doctor  and  Mr.  Primrose  to  consult  together 
aside,  as  to  the  best  course  to  take  in  the  emergency,  when  they 
wisely  resolved  to  accept  the  lady's  composition,  with  as  many 
compliments  to  its  excellence  as  they  could  bestow,  and  having 
thus  got  it  into  their  hands  for  instant  publication,  to  slash  it  and 
hash  it  at  their  discretion,  throwing  all  the  blame  upon  somebody 
or  another  with  sufficiently  broad  shoulders,  Mr.  Cox,  for  example, 
whose  munificent  subscription  might  seem  to  entitle  him  to  take 
a  liberty  of  the  kind. 

This  course  was,  accordingly,  adopted  ;  Mr.  Primrose  took 
upon  him  the  task  of  eulogising  the  address,  which  he  did  with 
no  economy  of  flattering  expressions  ;  after  which,  the  three  men 
of  the  party  got  into  the  Doctor's  little  open  carriage  (the  same 
old  machine  that  had  made  the  tour  of  Wales),  and,  at  a  rapid, 
electioneering  pace,  drov  3  into  the  city. 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  811 


CHAPTER  VH. 

^  ME.  MEDLICOTT  RECEIVES  THE  DEPUTATION. 

THERE  was  never  perhaps  a  queerer  embassy  than  that  which  the 
liberal  and  enlightened  electors  of  Chichester  sent  up  to  London, 
to  overcome  the  modest  reluctance  of  Mr.  Reuben  Medlicott  to 
represent  them  in  the  British  Parliament.  With  Mr.  Broad,  the 
head  and  front  of  the  embassy,  we  are  well  acquainted  already. 
Alderman  Codd  was  almost  as  fat  as  he  was  facile,  and  Alderman 
Gosling,  the  third,  was  considered  a  droll  fellow  in  his  corpora 
tion,  a  character  which  he  sustained  chiefly  by  puns  and  jokes 
upon  his  own  not  inappropriate  name.  This  last  worthy  was 
accompanied  by  his  son,  a  lad  of  some  twelve  years'  pith,  one  of 
Mr.  Medlicott's  numerous  godsons,  and  a  Reuben  into  the  bar 
gain.  The  Alderman  thought  the  present  opportunity  a  good 
one  to  introduce  this  hopeful  youth  to  the  notice  of  his  illustrious 
sponsor,  and,  to  make  him  worthy  to  appear  in  such  a  presence, 
he  had  clothed  him  from  head  to  foot  in  a  new  suit  of  sky-blue, 
which,  decorated  with  a  profusion  of  conical  silver  buttons,  formed 
a  very  imposing  holiday  costume. 

Mr.  Medlicott  had  no  fixed  residence  in  the  metropolis  at  this 
period,  but  led  a  sort  of  oscillating  life,  as  became  a  man  of  ge 
nius,  and  suited  a  man  of  his  circumstances,  occasionally  taking 
advantage  of  Lord  Maudlin's  house  when  he  was  out  of  town, 
but  generally  moving  back  and  forwards  between  Mr.  Trevor's 
convenient  box  at  Hampstead  and  Friend  Harvey's  accommodat 
ing  house  in  Gracechurch-street.  Fortunately  for  the  dignity  of 
the  present  occasion,  he  happened  to  be  quartered  at  Maudlin 
House  in  Cavendish-square,  when  Mr.  Broad  and  his  colleagues 
arrived  to  lay  the  representation  of  Chichester  at  his  feet. 

Poor  Mary  Medlicott,  anxious  as  she  was  about  what  was 
going  on,  was  in  no  condition  at  the  time  to  take  a  very  active 
part  in  the  preparations  to  receive  the  embassy.  There  were 
palpable  grounds  for  believing  that  she  would  soon  present  her 
husband  with  a  third  pledge  of  their  mutual  affection ;  a  male  it 
was  devoutly  hoped,  to  inherit  the  father's  talents,  and  perpetuate 
his  name  and  blood. 

But  Reuben  was  in  no  want  of  friends  far  more  competent 
than  his  wife  to  lend  him  the  sort  of  assistance  he  wanted  in  the 
preseo1  circumstances.  He  was  now  living  on  terms  more  inti- 


512  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

mate  than  was  perfectly  discreet,  with  his  old  acquaintance 
Adolphe,  and  his  charming  and  clever  sister,  Mrs.  Chattertes. 
The  former  had  long  since  given  up  all  his  mechanical  and  me) 
cantile  speculations,  and  the  latter  had  been  for  some  time  sepa 
rated  from  her  husband,  the  Professor.  Brother  and  sister  now 
went  by  the  name  of  Monsieur  and  Madame  Beauvoisin,  and 
were  proposing  a  great  many  ingenious  plans  for  the  future,  the 
favourite  one  being  to  establish  a  Musical  Academy  at  Chichester, 
under  the  patronage  of  Mr.  Medlicott,  which  naturally  made  them 
take  the  liveliest  interest  in  all  that  was  now  going  forward. 

It  was  Madame  Beauvoisin  who  arranged  the  largest  of  the 
drawing-rooms  for  the  present  occasion.  A  gilt  chair  was  placed 
for  Reuben  at  the  top  of  the  room,  flanked  with  sofas  and  couches 
for  the  members  of  his  family  and  such  of  his  friends  as  might 
wish  to  be  present ;  in  the  middle  space  was  a  table  strewed  with 
blue  books  brought  up  from  my  Lord's  library,  and  supporting 
also  a  plate  of  oranges  for  the  speakers,  while  beneath  the  table 
were  set  three  chairs  for  the  gentlemen  composing  the  deputation. 

Mr.  Medlicott,  always  attentive  to  dress,  as  well  as  address, 
took  his  usual  pains  on  that  important  day  to  appear  as  capti 
vating  as  possible  in  the  sight  of  his  townsmen  and  acquaint 
ance.  It  was  about  this  period  of  his  life  he  adopted  the  par 
ticular  costume  from  which  he  rarely  deviated  afterwards,  except 
for  the  short  interval  of  his  total  amalgamation  with  the  Q.uak- 
ers,  hereafter  to  be  recorded.  This  was  a  light-brown  body-cpat, 
with  gilt  buttons,  white  waistcoat,  light  drab  or  pearl-coloured 
trousers,  and  a  blue  silk  cravat ;  all  rather  flowing  and  ample, 
as  if  his  taste  for  looseness  and  prolixity  had  extended  from  his 
mind  to  his  apparel.  A  gold  watch-chain  with  a  bunch  of  seals 
hung  from  his  fob ;  and  a  superb  cluster  of  flowers,  such  as 
were  then  in  season,  completed  as  usual  the  decoration  of  his 
person. 

Thus  armed  at  all  points  for  civil  conquest,  burnished  like  a 
mirror,  perfumed  like  a  garden,  radiant  with  satisfaction,  and  a  lit 
tle  swollen  with  importance,  he  decended  from  his  dressing-room 
about  half-an-hour  before  the  time  appointed ;  turned  over  his 
private  collections  of  similes  and  metaphors,  selecting  a  few  for 
the  occasion,  and  then  taking  his  flageolet  (which  had  been  much 
in  request  since  his  marriage),  he  threw  himself  with  "artless 
heed"  on  a  pile  of  cushions,  and  surrounded  by  the  fair  Louise, 
as  useful  as  she  was  charming,  his  adoring  wife,  and  his  crowing 
progeny,  tricked  out  with  enormous  blue  sashes,  he  regaled 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  313 

them  with  a  succession  of  the  old  melodies  which  he  had  learned 
under  the  shadow  of  the  great  square  tower  of  Hereford 
Cathedral.  In  the  interval  between  two  tunes,  Madame  Beau- 
voisin,  not  quite  approving  of  the  disposition  of  his  hair,  pro 
duced  a  little  ivory  comb  from  her  pocket,  and  improved  its  ar 
rangement  with  a  coquettish  touch  or  two  of  her  old  art,  while 
his  wife  inquired  if  the  interview  with  the  deputies  would  occupy 
much  time. 

"  I  should  say  very  little,  my  dear,"  replied  Reuben,  "  if  peo 
ple  will  only  abstain  from  speechifying.  The  deputation  has 
only  to  ask  me  a  simple  question.  I  have  only  to  return  a  plain 
answer,  — perhaps  make  a  remark.  Including  the  collation, 
I  cannot  conceive  the  whole  affair  occupying  more  than  one 
hour." 

"  Then  we  shall  have  our  drive  round  the  Regent's  Park 
before  dinner,"  said  Mary. 

"  By  all  means,"  replied  her  husband,  and,  resuming  the 
instrument,  he  was  playing  another  lively  air,  in  the  attitude  of 
a  shepherd  on  a  bank,  in  a  picture  of  the  "  learned  Poussin's," 
when  the  door  was  thrown  open  and  a  servant  announced  Mr. 
Trevor,  the  law-bookseller,  Mr.  Fox,  the  proctor,  Mr.  Rey 
nard,  the  attorney,  and  these  were  soon  followed  by  Mrs. 
Mountjoy  with  several  of  the  old  habitues  of  Burlington 
Gardens,  including  Mr.  Bavard  and  Captain  Shunfield. 

You  may  fancy  how  the  pompous  arrangement  of  so  fine 
an  apartment,  the  display  of  the  blue  books,  such  a  charming 
group  of  lovely  women  and  rosy  children,  and  the  showy  figure 
of  the  rising  statesman  in  the  centre  of  it,  like  a  diamond  sur 
rounded  with  rubies,  must  have  affected  the  imaginations  and 
dazzled  the  eyes  of  the  beholders.  The  proctor,  when  he  was 
able  to  speak,  made  a  clumsy  attempt  to  compliment  Mr.  Med- 
licott  upon  his  combination  of  graceful  accomplishments  with 
talents  of  the  highest  order. 

"  Ah,"  replied  Reuben,  quickly  availing  himself  of  one  of  his 
cut-and-dry  classical  all  isions,  "  I  am,  unhappily,  a  contrast  to 
Themistocles ;  I  can  fiddle,  which  he  could  not,  but  I  cannot 
make  a  small  town  a  great  city,  as  he  could."  He  handed,  as 
he  spoke,  the  flageolet  to  his  wife's  maid  to  lay  it  aside,  and  the 
air  with  which  he  performed  this  little  action  was  well  calcu 
lated  to  throw  considerable  doubt  upon  the  sincerity  of  the  dis 
claimer. 

"Pardon  me,  sir,  but  you  are  the  very  man  to  do  both," 
14 


314  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

returned  the  proctor,  "I  am  sure  if  you  had  only  practised  in 
Doctors'  Commons " 

"  I  am  reminded,"  said  Mr.  Bavard,  who  came  to  the  meet 
ing  in  a  spirit  of  malicious  curiosity,  among  other  improper 
motives,  "of  a  remark  of  Bacon's  on  the  subject  in  question; 
there  are  many,  he  says,  wno  can  fiddle  well  enough,' but  are 
so  far  from  being  able  to  make  a  small  town  a  great  one,  that 
their  gift  lies  the  other  way,  to  bring  a  great  town  to  ruin.  I 
don't  mean,  of  course,  to  insinuate  that  Mr.  Medlicott  possesses 
that  description  of  talent ;  but  to  be  sure  nobody  knows  what 
any  man  can  do  until  he  is  tried.  I  remember  an  anecdote  "- 

But  an  influx  of  Quakers  just  at  the  moment  took  the  para 
ble  out  of  Mr.  Bavard's  mouth  before  be  could  utter  another  sylla 
ble.  Friend  Harvey  led  the  way,  or  rather  came  rushing  in. 
as  brown  as  a  berry,  all  but  his  hat,  and  as  brisk  as  any  bee,  his 
smooth  oval  face  glowing  with  enthusiasm,  one  hand  employed 
pulling  out  his  watch,  the  other  full  of  tracts  and  pamphlets, 
which  proved  to  be  all  copies  of  Reuben's  speech  on  capital 
punishment,  and  his  eloquent  defence  of  the  Meeting.  Harvey 
was  followed  by  Friend  Wilson,  his  opposite  neighbour,  and  the 
solemnest  of  his  sect,  at  whose  heels  came  Jonas  and  Samuel 
Harvey,  the  former  with,  his  mouth  wider  open  than  ever,  but 
both  looking  like  malefactors,  they  were  so  amazed  by  all  that 
they  saw.  Then  there  was  Isaac  Hopkins,  a  Smyrna  merchant, 
in  full  fig;  Joshua  Hopkins,  his  brother,  a  brewer  of  Bermond- 
sey ;  and  two  or  three  exceedingly  drab  and  dreary  Quaker 
esses,  whose  harsh  and  forbidding  countenances  showed  that 
they  had  not  yet  in  their  hearts  forgiven  our  poor  Mary  for 
deserting  the  Meeting,  though  outwardly  reconciled  to  her,  in 
gratitude  for  her  husband's  services,  and  probably  with  hopes  of 
further  advantages  from  his  genius. 

Friend  Harvey  had  not  been  in  the  room  for  five  minutes 
before  his  extraordinary  zeal  and  indefatigable  activity  gave  him 
n  kind  of  ascendancy  over  the  rest  of  the  company.  Mr.  Trevor 
had  intended  to  be  the  most  prominent  of  Reuben's  supporters  ; 
Mr.  Reynard,  the  attorney,  had  also  contemplated  taking  the 
lead,  and  so  had  the  secretary  of  the  Polish  Association,  who 
considered  himself  quite  at  home  in  Lord  Maudlin's  house  ;  but 
nothing  could  stand  before  the  restless  energy  of  Harvey ;  he 
constituted  himself  secretary,  had  a  string  of  resolutions  ready 
prepared,  cut  up  the  oranges,  sprinkled  all  the  room  over  witc. 
his  tracts,  elbowed  Mr.  Bavard  without  the  least  ceremony,  told 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  815 

Friend  Trevor,  his  brother  bookseller,  to  make  himself  useful, 
and  stationed  his  two  gaping  sons  at  a  window  to  proclaim  the 
arrival  of  the  deputation  at  the  hall-door. 

The  Quakers,  being  all  pinks. of  punctuality,  kept  looking  at 
their  watches  incessantly,  and,  indeed,  the  moment  was  almost 
come  for  Mr.  Broad  and  his  colleagues  to  make  their  appear 
ance.  There  was  very  little  occasion  for  alarm  on  that  score. 
Mr.  Broad  had  his  heart  and  soul  in  the  business  of  the  day  as 
much  as  Friend  Harvey  himself;  he  had  the  old  "Black  Lion" 
in  a  ferment  the  whole  morning  about  a  respectable  coach  for 
the  occasion,  and  after  holding  forth  on  the  dignity  and  import 
ance  of  his  mission,  to  the  vast  astonishment  of  the  coffee-room, 
he  sallied  forth  to  have  his  hair  dressed  and  powdered  by  a  Lon 
don  hair-cutter,  and  insisted  upon  the  two  Aldermen  having 
their  wise  noddles  dressed  also, — nay,  while  the  operator  had 
him  in  hand,  the  excited  little  cutler  could  not  refrain  from  go 
ing  over  the  whole  story  again  of  his  business  in  town,  which 
made  the  hair-dresser  feel  that  he  was  exercising  his  talents  on 
the  head  of  a  personage  of  no  little  weight  in  the  political 
world. 

"Broad,"  said  Alderman  Codd,  as  they  left  the  shop,  to  step 
into  the  coach,  which  had  been  brought  to  the  door  for  them, 
"Broad,  you  have  out-talked  the  barber." 

"  You  won't  have  a  word  in  you,  when  the  talk  is  wanted," 
said  Alderman  Gosling. 

"  You  must  take  my  place,  Alderman,"  said  Broad. 

Here  the  coachman  inquired  where  he  was  to  drive  their 
worships,  for  having  heard  the  word  alderman,  he  concluded  they 
were  all  personages  of  the  same  municipal  rank  and  dignity. 

"  To  the  Right  Honourable  Lord  Viscount  Maudlin's,"  said 
Mr.  Broad,  "  with  whom  my  illustrious  townsman  Mr.  Medlicott 
is  on  a  visit." 

"  Where  does  his  Lordship  live,  please  your  worships  ?" 

"  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  ask  such  a  question,"  replied 
Mr.  Broad ;  "  in  Cavendish  square,  to  be  sure,  sir." 

"  Your  worship  doesn't  happen  to  know  the  number  of  the 
house  ?" 

"  House,  sir ! — it's  not  a  house,  it's  a  mansion  ;  — -drive  us  to 
Cavendish-square ;  I  don't  suppose  there  will  be  much  difficulty 
in  finding  the  mansion  of  the  Right  Honourable  Lord  Viscount 
Maudlin." 

"  You  are  going  to  the  house  of  a  Viscount,  think  of  that, 


316  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ' 

boy,"  said  Alderman  Codd  to  Master  Reuben  Gosling,  the  youth 
in  the  sky-blue  suit. 

"  Is  godfather  a  Viscount  ?"'  said  the  boy. 

"  Not  quite  so  great  as  all  that,"  said  his  sire. 

"  Your  godfather,  boy,  is  a  statesman  and  an  orator,"  said  Mr. 
Broad,  "  which  is  much  greater  than  any  "Viscount.  Wait  till 
you. hear  your  godfather  talk." 

"  He  talked  for  you  when  you  could  not  talk  for  yourself," 
said  Alderman  Gosling,  chucking  his  son  under  the  chin,  and 
laughing  at  his  own  wit. 

There  was  no  difficulty  in  finding  Lord  Maudlin's  house. 
Directly  the  eoach  drove  up  to  the  door,  the  young  Quaker  book 
sellers  announced  the  event  with  a  simultaneous  shout. 

"  Friends  will  be  so  kind  as  to  take  their  places,"  cried  Har 
vey  himself;  and  not  content  with  making  this  request,  which 
indeed  was  in  the  tone  of  a  command,  he  actually  forced  several 
people  to  sit  down  who  were  disposed  to  remain  standing. 
Among  those  on  whom  he  exercised  this  compulsion  was  the  gal 
lant  Captain  Shunfield,  and  so  little  did  Harvey  care  where  the 
Captain  sat,  provided  he  was  seated,  that  he  wedged  him  in  be 
tween  the  two  grim  and  sour  old  Quakeresses  upon  a  sofa,  who 
were  scandalised  beyond  measure  by  fining  themselves  in  ac 
tual  contact  with  a  dragoon,  little  dreaming  that  he  was  in  truth 
as  peaceful  a  personage  as  any  in  the  room.  The  Captain  on  his 
part  looked  grim  enough  also,  and  twisted  his  moustache  with 
considerable  ferocity  ;  but  like  everybody  else  he  succumbed  to 
Friend  Harvey,  and  kept  his  uncomfortable  seat  most  submissive 
ly  to  the  close  of  the  proceedings. 

Hard  it  is  to  say  which  sight  was  better  worth  seeing,  Mr.  Med- 
licott  when  he  took  the  gilt  chair  at  the  top  of  the  table  with  the 
oranges  and  blue  books,  or  Mr.  Broad  when  he  marched  in  with 
his  fidgetty  strut  (something  between  the  magpie  and  the  pea 
cock),  and  suddenly  found  himself  in  the  presence  of  a  larger 
assembly  than  he  had  reckoned  on,  including  so  many  ladies,  to 
make  his  situation  the  more  embarrassing.  There  was  not  much 
room  for  the  ludicrous  evolutions  with  which  he  usually  made 
his  bows ;  but  he  turned  the  space  he  had  to  the  best  account, 
and  diverted  exceedingly  everybody  who  had  the  least  eye  for 
the  ridiculous.  Ushered  by  Friend  Harvey,  he  took  the  middle 
place  at  the  bottom  of  the  table  ;  the  Aldermen  supported  him 
on  each  side,  staring  like  stuck  pigs,. as  the  vulgar  saying  is,  and 
no  chair  being  provided  for  Master  Reuben  Gosling,  Harvey  soon 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  317 

disposed  of  that  young  gentleman,  by  assignirg  him  a  place  on 
the  same  chair  with  Mr  Bavard,  who  soon  assigned  him  to  a  seat 
on  the  ground  almost  at  Mr.  Medlicott's  feet. 

These  arrangements  having  been  made,  Friend  Harvey  ap 
proached  the  table,  and  standing  bolt  upright,  and  addressing 
Reuben,  in  tones  to  which  his  nose  contributed  more  than  was 
pleasant  to  the  ear,  said — 

"  Friend  Medlicott,  it  now  becomes  my  duty  to  acquaint  thee 
that  a  deputation  of  thy  most  distinguished  townsmen  (here  Mr. 
Broad  bowed)  has  the  honour  of  waiting  upon  thee,  for  objects 
and  purposes  which  they  will  explain  with  far  more  circumlocu 
tion  than  it  would  become  me  to  do ;  they  will  address  thee  one 
after  the  other,  and  from  all  I  have  heard,  I  think  the  lovers  of 
eloquence  and  friends  of  humanity  will  have  a  rare  treat." 

This  most  unauthorised  programme  made  the  three  deputies 
twice  as, nervous  and  fidgetty  as  they  were  already  disposed  to 
be ;  a  mutual  elbowing,  whispering,  nodding,  and  winking  took 
place,  which  ended  in  the  Aldermen  joining  to  push  Mr  Broad 
forward,  as  it  had  all  along  been  settled  that  he  should  be  spokes 
man. 

Considering  that  everybody  present  perfectly  well  knew  what 
Mr.  Broad  had  got  to  say,  before  he  opened  his  lips,  the  speech 
that  he  made  answered  its  purpose  to  admiration.  Had  the  ob 
ject  of  his  mission  not  been  previously  understood,  it  is  very 
questionable  if  his  speech  would  have  thrown  much  light  upon  it ; 
for  never  having  addressed  a  dozen  people  before,  and  being  almost 
completely  overwhelmed  by  the  combined  effect  of  the  splendid 
mansion,  the  presence  of  the  fair  sex,  and  more  than  all  by  the  pre 
mature  compliments  paid  to  his  eloquence,  he  lost  his  voice  almost 
completely,  and  the  train  of  his  thoughts,  such  as  they  were,  along 
with  it.  In  short,  after  stammering  for  five  minutes,  the  only  au 
dible  words  being  "  reform,"  "  Poland,"  "  Chichester,"  and  "  my 
tie  ,u?nt  and  distinguished  townsman,"  the  poor  little  cutler  sat 
down,  with  no  great  reason  to  be  pleased  with  his  performance, 
e.xcept  that  it  called  forth  as  loud  plaudits  as  if  it  had  been 
-  made  by  the  best  speaker  of  the  day. 

"  Voxfaucibus  hcesit"  said  the  Proctor,  aside,  to  Mr.  Bavard. 
It  was  a  scrap  of  Latin  he  had  probably  picked  up  from  Dr. 
Lushington. 

"  The  beginning  of  the  line  is  equally  applicable,"  said  Ba 
vard,  "  steteruntque  cornea"  and  truly  so  it  was,  for  Mr.  Broad's 
well-powdered  hair,  which  he  always  wore  brushed  up  to  the 


318'  TKE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

shape  of  a  cone,  being  now  fresh  from  the  hands  of  the  hair- 
"cutter,  stood  straight  up  on  his  head  like  nothing  so  much  as  a 
sharp  alpine  peak,  to  which  we  compared  it  on  a  former  occasion. 

Friend  Harvey  worked  hard  to  get  speeches  from  Alderman 
Codd  and  Gosling.  The  former,  indeed,  got  on  his  legs,  but  it 
was  only  to  say  that  "he  endorsed  Mr.  Broad's  bill;"  a  sho^t 
speech,  but  an  energetic  one,  particularly  as  he  closed  it  (by  way 
•of  peroration)  with  a  thump  on  the  table  which  nearly  broke  it, 
and  sent  the  oranges  rolling  about  the  floor ;  at  the  same  time 
he  resumed  his  chair  with  so  heavy  a  plump  that  it  went  nearly 
to  pieces  under  him,  being  one  of  French  manufacture,  and  ill- 
suited  to  the  weight  of  an  English  Alderman.  No  one  but 
Friend  Harvey  was  much  displeased  by  these  little  interruptions, 
which  were  rather  of  a  pleasant  nature.  To  one  person  present 
they  were  even  propitious,  for  the  son  of  Alderman  Gosling,  hav 
ing  been  very  active  in  picking  up  the  oranges,  attracted  Mr. 
Medlicott's  attention,  and  had  the  honour  of  having  his  head  pat 
ted  and  being  asked  at  the  same  time  what  was  his  name.  The 
boy  was  ready  enough  to  answer,  and  not  only  told  his  name, 
but  the  sort  of  moral  relationship  in  which  he  stood  to  his  emi 
nent  namesake. 

"  I  believe,"  said  Mr.  Medlicott,  most  graciously  smiling,  "  I 
have  a  great  many  young  namesakes  in  and  about  Chichester." 

"  Two  Reuben  Medlicotts  and  three  plain  Reubens,"  answered 
the  youth  as  glibly  as  possible. 

Mr.  Medlicott  again  patted  his  head,  and  told  him  he  would 
not  forget  him. 

"  That  boy's  bread  is  baked,"  said  Mr.  Broad,  aside,  to  the 
elder  Gosling,  who  had  been  most  anxiously  watching  what 
passed. 

At  the  same  moment  the  other  Alderman  was  provided  with 
a  stouter  chair,  and  Mr.  Medlicott,  with  one  hand  on  his  breast, 
and  the  other  upon  one  of  the  blue  books,  the  very  picture  :>f 
the  dawning  statesman,  rose  to  make  "  a  few  obse  vations." 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  319 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

ME.   MEDLICOTT   GIVES   HIS   FRIEXD3   A    TEEAT. 

"  WILL  you  stand  for^Jhichester,  Mr.  Medlicott?"  was  the  plain 
question  put  to  him,  and  a  "yes,"  or  a  "  no,''  would  have  been, 
to  all  intents  and  purposes,  a  sufficient  answer  to  it.  But  his 
zealous  and  admiring  friends  had  not  assembled  in  such  force, 
to  be  put  off  with  a  monosyllabic  oration  ;  and  the  Quakers  es- 
.  pecially  (albeit  a  sect  whose  communications  are  yea  and  nay), 
would  have  been  offended  by  an  affectation  of  brevity  upon  the  pres 
ent  occasion.  In  fact  everybody  present,  except  Mr.  Bavard,  came 
expressly  for  what  friend  Harvey  called  "  a  treat;"  and  as  neither 
the  speech  of  Mr.  Broad,  nor  that  of  the  Alderman,  could  well 
be  considered  in  that  light,  it  became  the  more  incumbent  upon 
Mr.  Medlicott  to  satisfy  the  cravings -of  the  little  meeting.  It 
was  not  two  o'clock  when  he  commenced  his  palaver,  and  it  was 
past  four  when  he  had  done :  nor  will  it  be  thought  in  the  least 
surprising  that  he  npoke  at  such  great  length,  when  the  number  of 
topics  is  considered  which  he  was  either  expected,  or  thought  it  his 
duty,  to  handle;  "embracing  most  questions  of  foreign  and  domestic 
policy,  the  vast  circle  of  human  interests,  and  every  project  of 
reform  that  ever  was  broached.  We  hope  to  be  pardoned  for 
declining  to  give  the  speech  in  extenso.  There  is  some  danger 
of -even  an  abstract  being  voted  tiresome  ;  but  as  it  seems  indis 
pensable  to  give  the  reader  a  specimen  of  Mr.  Medlicott's  mode 
of  proceeding,  when  he  rose  to  offer  a  simple  remark,  or  make 
a  few  short  observations,  we  must  run  the  risk,  great  as  it  is. 
He  commenced  with  a  broad  view  (an  exceedingly  broad  one)  of 
the  British  constitution ;  then  he  discussed  the  onerous  duties 
and  awful  responsibilities  of  a  member  of  parliament ;  from 
which  he  proceeded  to  the  serious  inquiry  whether  he  possessed 
the  proper  intellectual,  moral,  and  physical  qualifications  for  a 
trust  of  such  magnitude  and  importance,  seeming  at  first  to  be 
of  opinion  that  it  was  far  beyond  his  strength  and  abilities,  but 
eventually  comforting  his  friends  by  coining  round  to  the  conclu 
sion  that,  under  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  even  his  poor 
talents  might  be  acceptable  to  his  country.  Sometimes  he  shrank 
from  the  task  he  was  called  on  to  perform  ;  but  then  again,  was 
it  for  him  to  set  up  his  weak  judgment  against  the  public,  if  the 
public  thought  fit  to  command  his  se: vices?  Vox  populi  vox 


320  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

Dei,  he  continued,  looking  at  Alderman  Gosling,  who  nodded 
as  if  he  understood  what  that  meant;  and  having  delivered 
this  oracular  sentence,  he  thought  it  his-  duty  to  state,  very 
briefly  of  course,  his  opinions  and  sentiments  on  all  the  leading 
questions  of  the  day.  It  was  unnecessary  to  assure  his  friend, 
Mr.  Broad,  that  he  was  unalterably  attached  to  the  cause  of 
Poland,  and  eternally  hostile  to  the  power  of  Russia.  lie  felt 
honoured  and  gratified  by  the  cordial  cheer  with  which  that 
worthy  gentleman  bore  witness  to  the  strength,  and  sincerity  of 
his  feelings  upon  that  subject:  in  fact,  he  could  only  do  perfect 
justice  to  those  feelings  by  protesting  that  his  hatred  of  the  Czar 
amounted  to  a  personal  animosity.  But  he  could  riot  consent  to 
confine  his  views  to  Muscovy  ;  he  begged  to  be  allowed  to 
spread  his  mind  over  the  whole  terraqueous  globe — 

"Let  Observation,  v/itk  extended  view, 
Survey  the  world  from  India  to  Peru." 

He  was  sure  his  excellent  friend  Mr.  Harvey  would  not  quarrel 
with  him  for  that,  nor  his  friends,  the  Messrs.  Hopkins,  whose 
enterprising  benevolence  was  known  and  felt  wherever  the  name 
of  England  had  penetrated, — 

"  Whatever  clime  the  sun's  bright  circle  warms." 

Were  they  not  all  profoundly  interested  in  the  politics  of  our 
Indian  empire?  who  was  unconcerned  in  the  welfare  of  the 
great  Australian  continent  ?  who  did  not  love  the  Kaffir  as  his 
kinsman  ?  who  did  not  yearn  to  the  New  Zealander  as  his 
brother  ?  He  knew  how  his  words  touched  all  their  hearts  ;  he 
saw  how  they  particularly  touched  his  fair  hearers  (meaning  the 
grim  old  Quakeresses  to  whom  he  had  especially  directed  them). 
What  course,  then,  ought  a  public  man  to  take  ?  What,  in  fact, 
did  "  foreign  pol: tics"  mean  ?  He  would  answer  ,1  one  word, 
and  that  word  was  sympathy  !  He  had  toucher  another  chord 
of  the  harp  of  feeling,  another  string  of  that  div'ue  instrument, 
the  human  heart,  which  heaven  itself  had  tuned,  '  more  musical 
than  is  Apollo's  lute  ;" — alas,  that  he  was  not  a  Wilberforce,  or 
a  Burke,  to  touch  it  worthily,  to  bring  forth  al  its  sweetness, 

"  Untwisting  all  the  chords  that  tie 
The  hidden  soul  of  harmony." 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAX.  821 

While  Mr.  Mecllicott  was  making  these  happy  and  beautiful  al 
lusions  to  melody  (most  of  them  extracted  that  morning  from 
his  common-place  book),  his  wife  had  found  it  extremely  difficult 
to  keep  the  yearling  in  her  arms  as  quiet  and  mute  as  the 
gravity  of  the  occasion  required.  The  child  (fortunately  a  good- 
humoured  and  deserving  little  creature)  was  continually  stretch 
ing  out  its  arms,  as  if  to  catch  Reuben's  as  they  winnowed  the 
air,  at  the  same  time  crowing  as  if  it  actually  desired  to  concur 
in  the  compliments  which  the  deputies  and  the  Quakers  paid  to 
almost  every  sentence.  Mary  was  at  length  about  to  retire  with 
her  infant,  when  the  felicitous  idea  occurred  to  Reuben  to  take 
it  out  of  her  hands,  and  continue  his  speech  with  the  child  in 
his  arms,  which  he  did  with  such  a  mixture  of  parental  tenderness 
and  statesman-like  dignity,  that  it  drew  forth  louder  plaudits 
than  he  had  yet  been  honoured  with.  Of  course,  he  had  now 
only  one  hand  at  liberty,  but  he  sawed  the  air  with  that  suffi 
ciently,  and  now  began  to  roam  through  a  wilderness  of  topics, 
where,  if  we  were  to  attempt  to  follow  him,  we  should  infallibly 
lose  our  way,  as  he  did  himself  more  than  once  during  his  ram 
bles.  Probably  it  was  of  little  consequence  in  what  order  the 
topics  were  disposed  ;  but  Mr.  Mecllicott  was  never  much  of  a 
martinet  in  the  point  of  logical  discipline  called  method,  and 
the  remainder  of  his  address  was  literally  nothing  but  a  mob  of 
circumlocutions  about  the  various  questions  which  he  knew  were 
uppermost  in  the  thoughts  of  his  friends.  He  knew  Mr.  Trevor 
was  anxious  about  the  law  of  copyright ;  he  expatiated  accord 
ingly  for  ten  minntes  on  that  subject.  To  please  Isaac  Hopkins 
he  was  prolix  on  temperance  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  To 
gratify  the  Proctor  he  went  to  an  unnecessary  length  into  the 
abuses  of  the  common  law,  and  then  to  compensate  the  Attor 
ney,  he  held  forth  with  equal  superfluity  upon  the  reform  of  the 
ecclesiastical  courts,  after  all  which  he  unluckily  caught  the  fanat 
ical  eye  of  Friend  Wilson  who  was  the  president  of  a  Peace 
Society  ;  and  his  ideas  rushing  forthwith  into  that  new  train,  off 
he  went  at  a  tangent,  dashing  into  the  Horse  Guards,  de 
molishing  the  army  estimates,  and  inveighing  against  iron  and 
saltpetre,  very  much  in  the  belligerent  strain  of  Mr.  Cobden  at 
the  present  day,  and  nothing  daunted  by  the  presence  «/  °'1r>- 
tain  Shunfield,  who,  to  do  hira  justice,  took  the  assault  upon  the 
profession  of  arms  in  the  upmost  good  humour,  though  the  old 
Quakeresses  were  'afraid  that  he  would  draw  his  sword  every 
instant 

14* 


322'  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

The  speech  came  to  an  end  at  last, — all  things  do,  all  things 
must,  and  the  law  must  be  an  inexorable  one,  or  the  genius  of 
Reuben  Medlicott  would  not  have  submitted  to  it.  The  moment 
he  ceased,  Alderman  Codd  jumped  up  to  ask  a  question  about 
the  National  Debt,  but  Mr.  Broad  pulled  him  down,  and  for  sc 
doing  well  deserved  the  thanks  of  the  meeting.  The  othei 
Alderman,  however,  Mr.  Gosling,  managed  to  get  in  a  word,  and 
a  very  sensible  one  it  was. 

"  He  begged  Jo  know  whether  Mr.  Medlicott  did  or  did  not 
accept  the  invitation  ;  for  though  he  had  paid  his  eloquent 
speech  the  greatest  attention,  he  had  heard  nothing  distinct  upon 
that  which  was  the  main  point." 

"  I  must  say,"  said  Mr.  Bavard,  maliciously  supporting  the 
Alderman,  "  I  never  heard  a  more  admirable  speech  than  my 
eloquent  friend  has  made  upon  every  subject  in  the  world  ex 
cept  the  question  at  issue." 

Mr.  Broad  was  furious  at  this,  and  exclaimed  that  he  had 
never  heard  anything  more  explicit  than  the  language  of  his 
distinguished  townsman.  Friend  Harvey  was  also  most  indig 
nant.  Friend  Wilson  concurred  with  Alderman  Gosling.  The 
Proctor  and  the  Attorney  differed  as  usual.  All  spoke  at  once, 
while  Mr.  Medlicott,  piqued  at  the  nature  of  the  dispute,  (involv 
ing  as  it  did  an  unpleasant  criticism  upon  his  display,)  pre 
served  a  dignified  and  sarcastic  silence.  At  length,  after  a  little 
tumult  for  five  minutes,  Mr.  Trevor  made  the  shrewd  suggestion 
that  one  word  from  the  learned  gentleman  himself  would  settle 
the  question. 

"  Yes,  or  no,"  he  said,  addressing  Mr.  Medlicott. 

"  Yea,  or  nay,"  said  Friend  Wilson,  with  a  deep,  hollow 
voice,  as  if  it  issued  from  the  jaws  of  a  sepulchre. 

Reuben  looked  at  neither  of  the  speakers,  but  rising  again 
with  much  state,  addressed  himself  to  Mr.  Broad,  and  said,  "  he 
thought  he  had  explained  himself  sufficiently  ;  if  he  had  not,  he 
was  sorry  for  it ;  but  he  begged  now  to  assure  that  gentleman 
that  he  wanted  words  to  thank  his  friends  at  Chichester 
for  the  honour  they  had  done  him,  and  he  would  take  the 
earliest  opportunity  of  waiting  on  the  electors  and  canvassing 
them  in  person." 

"  Now,  Alderman,  /  hope  you  are  satisfied,"  said  Mr.  Broad, 
accosting  his  colleague  triumphantly. 

"  You  ought  to  have  held  your  tongue,*  brother,"  said  the 
other  Alderman,  "  if  it  was  only  for  your  son's  sake." 


OE,  THE   COMING  MAK.  323 

"  I  believe  I  was  a  goose,"  said  Gosling. 

A  collation  followed,  and  Mr.  Medlicott  appearing  to  be  ex 
hausted  by  his  effort,  one  of  the  old  Quakeresses  addressed  him 
and  said — 

"  Friend  Reuben,  thou  needest  the  refreshment  of  repose 
more  than  thy  victuals ;  if  thou  wilt  take  my  advice  thou  wilt 
go  to  thy  chamber  and  take  a  lay." 

His  wife  explained  to  him  afterwards  that  "  taking  a  lay" 
meant,  in  Quaker  phraseology,  stretching  one's-self  on  the  bed 
without  undressing,  the  common  practice  of  the  Society  of  Friends 
at  their  great  anniversaries,  in  the  intervals  between  their  mom- 
ing  and  afternoon  Meetings  ;  the  Jacobs  and  Obadiahs,  moved  by 
the  spirit  of  drowsiness,  retiring  to  one  side  of  the  corridor,  and 
the  Rachels  and  Hannahs  seceding  to  the  other. 

Mr.  Medlicott,  however,  remained  to  do  the  honours  of  his 
feast,  which  was  extremely  acceptable  to  everybody  after  so 
much  speaking.  A  very  industrious  hour  was  spent  over  the 
viands,  and  it  was  nearly  six  o'clock  before  the  majority  of  the 
guests  dispersed.  The  deputies  lingered  after  the  rest,  and  so 
did  Friend  Harvey,  Mr.  Trevor  and  Mr.  Reynard.  They  lingered, 
however,  for  practical  objects,  although  the  bottle  went  round 
while  they  were  discussing  them.  One  of  the  objects  was  se 
cured  by  the  obliging  and  handsome  manner  in  which  Mr.  Rey 
nard  undertook  to  conduct  the  election,  in  the  capacity  of  Mr. 
Medlicott's  law  agent.  This,  however,  it  is  to  be  observed,  to 
the  credit  of  the  solicitor's  sagacity,  he  did  not  do  until  he  was 
informed  by  Mr.  Broad  that  upwards  of  three  thousand  pounds 
had  been  raised,  and  was  actually  forthcoming,  if  necessary,  to 
secure  the  return. 

Reuben  said,  he  knew  nothing  of  the  expenses  of  elections ; 
but  since  the  subject  had  been  mentioned,  he  might  as  well  take 
that  opportunity  of  stating  most  distinctly,  that  he  intended  to 
represent  the  city  of  Chichester,  and  not  his  own,  or  any  other 
man's  pocket.  He  begged  the  deputies  to  take  a  note  of  what 
he  said  ; — there  must  be  no  bribery — no  treating — and  no  intim 
idation.  He  would  only  stand  upon  these  three  conditions. 

"  In  regard  to  bribery,"  said  Reynard,  addressing  Reuben, 
"  you  may  be  perfectly  satisfied,  sir,  if  I  have  the  management 
of  the  election,  there  will  be  nothing  of  that  sort.  The  name  of 
Reynard  is,  I  hope  and  trust,  security  enough  in  iteelf  that  every 
thing  done  under  his  direction  will  be  done  honourably  and 
above-board." 


824:  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

"  If  I  might  presume  to  advise  thee,  friend  Reuben,"  said 
Harvey,  "  I  would  say  tliou  shouldst  start  for  Cliich ester  thyself, 
at  thy  earliest  convenience." 

"  By  all  means,"  said  Reynard,  "  the  sooner  the  better.  Man 
age  a  public  entry,  if  you  can,  in  an  open  carriage.  Address  the 
mob  from  the  box,  and  leave  everything  else  to  Mr.  Broad  and 
me." 

Mr.  Broad  said  he  was  entirely  at  Mr.  Reynard's  disposal,  and 
he  would  say  the  same  for  his  colleagues,  the  Aldermen. 

"  The  Aldermen  ought  to  go  down,  this  very  night,"  said 
Reynard,  "  to  convey  Mr.  Medlicott's  determination  to  the  con 
stituency,  and  order  the  flags,  music,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing." 

The  Aldermen  looked  at  one  another,  and  seemed  disconcerted. 

"  The  fact  is,"  said  Alderman  Codd,  "  my  brother  and  I  are 
invited  to-morrow  to  a  grand  feast  at  Fishmongers'  Hall,  to  meet 
the  Lord  Mayor  of  London." 

"  That,"  said  Mr.  Reynard,  "  may  be  done  by  proxy." 

The  Aldermen  evidently  disliked  the  notion  of  dining  with 
the  Fishmongers  by  proxy,  and  Mr.  Medlicott,  observing  their 
perplexity,  said  he  should  be"  extremely  sorry  if  his  worthy  friends 
•were  put  to  any  inconvenience  upon  his  account. 

,  "By  the  bye,"  he  added,  addressing  Alderman  Gosling,  "I 
am  greatly  taken  with  that  fine  boy  of  yours.  Judging  from  his 
answers  to  some  questions  I  put  to  him,  I  should  say  he  has  a 
decided  talent  for  social  statistics.  Make  him  mind  his  arith 
metic.  I  may  yet  be  in  a  position  to  serve  him." 

This  well-timed  hit  made  Gosling  his  own  for  ever.  He 
cheerfully  sacrificed  turtle  and  venison,  setting  a  bright  example 
to  his  brother  Alderman,  which  the  latter  did  not  fail  to  follow  ; 
and  after  drinking  a  final  bumper  to  the  toast  of  Medlicott  and 
universal  philanthropy,  the  municipal  dignitaries  took  leave  of 
their  host,  and  hurried  away  to  be  in  time  for  the  mail. 

The  rest  of  the  company  soon  dispersed.  The  solicitor  and 
Mr.  Broad  walked  away  arm-in-arm.  The  former  was  anxious 
to  collect  from  the  latter  as  much  information  about  local  politics 
as  he  could  procure,  and  he  was  further  desirous  of  having  some 
portion  of  the  three  thousand  pounds  lodged  in  his  own  hands 
with  the  least  possible  delay. 

"  I  must  have  a  few  hundreds  this  evening,  or  very  early  to 
morrow,"  said  Reynard. 

"  We  had  better  go  to  friend  Harvey's,"  said  the  catler. 
"  The  Quakers  (to  their  credit  be  it  spoken)  are  greatly  interested 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.     -  325 

in  the  election,  and  have  undertaken  to  advance  a  large  sum, 
should  money  be  wanting." 

"  Money  will  be  wanting,  let  me  tell  you,"  said  Mr.  Reynard. 

"  Five  or  six  hundred  pounds  will  cover  everything,  won't 
it  ?"  said  the  other. 

"  The  Quakers  you  say,"  said  Reynard,  instead  of  directly 
answering  the  question,  "  are  interested  in  Mr.  Medlicott's 
election  ?" 

"  Interested,  sir — to  be  sure  they  are — everybody  is  inter 
ested  !  Did  you  ever  see  such  an  important  meeting  ?  Did  you 
ever  hear  such  a  wonderful  speech  ?  Why,  sir,  it  will  be  a  great 
era  in  English  history,  Mr.  Medlicott  coming  into  Parliament.  It 
will  change  the  face  of  the  world." 

-"  The  thing  must  be  done,  cost  what  it  may,"  said  Reynard. 

"  Cost  what  it  may,  sir,"  said  Broad,  energetically  ;  "  at  all- 
sacrifices  and  risks." 

"  Nobody  has  a  greater  respect  for  purity,  or  a  livelier  horror 
of  corruption  in  every  shape,  tnan  the  man  who  is  now  talking 
to  you,"  said  Reynard  ;  "  but  I'll  tell  you  a  maxim  of  mine,  ever 
since  I  began  to  practise  this  branch  of  my  profession.  If  a  man 
is  going  to  dine  with  a  friend,  and  if  there's  no  way  to  his  house 
but  through  a  dirty  lane,  he  takes  the  dirty  lane." 

"  He  does,  sir,"  said  Broad,  "  of  course  he  does." 

"  Or  he  would  lose  his  dinner,"  added  the  Attorney. 

"  Nobody  likes  that,"  said  Broad. 

"  I  have  no  reason  to  think  Chichester  a  particularly  dirty 
place,"  said  Reynard,  "  but  I  don't  know  as  much  about  it  as 
you  do." 

"  It  is  not  a  particularly  dirty  place,  I'll  say  that  for  it,"  re 
plied  the  cutler,  "  but  there  are  dirty  people  in  Chichester,  let  me 
tell  you,  and  dirty  people  that  have  votes,  sir." 

"  The  votes  of  dirty  people  count  for  as  much  as  the  votes  of 
clean  people  at  an  election,"  said  Mr.  Reynard. 

"  That's  a  just  observation,"  said  Mr.  Broad. 

"  And  the  upshot  is,  that  we  must  have  the  money,  Broad, 
or  we  can't  make  sure  of  returning  our  man.  -We  must  have  the 
money,  and  we  must  spend  the  money ;  when  a  great  object  is 
to  be  carried,  it  won't  do  to  be  squeamish." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,  Mr.  Reynard,"  said  Broad,  speaking 
very  confidentially,  but  at  the  same  time  very  eagerly  ;  "  I'll  be 
frank  with  you; — I  hate  foul  play  of  every  sort,  and  I  trust  we 
will  not  have  much  of  it ;  but  I  would  strain  a  point  or  two, 


826  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

that  I  would,  sir,  to  secure  the  return  of  my  eloquent  and  distin 
guished  townsman." 

"  The  feeling  does  you  infinite  credit,"  said  Reynaid,  "let  us 
go  and  call  upon  Mr.  Harvey." 

They  found  Harvey  and  Friend  Wilson  confabulating  together 
over  a  cup  of  tea.  The  spirit  of  Jesuitry  is  not  confined  to  the 
Jesuits.  There  was  not  a  pair  of  more  arrant  Jesuits,  after  a 
fashion  of  their  own,  in  all  England,  than  Friends  Harvey  and 
Wilson  ;  that  is  to  say,  the  value  they  set  upon  an  object  made 
them  shamefully  indifferent  as  to  the  choice  of  the  means  of  ac 
complishing  it.  Had  you  talked  to  either  of  them  of  any  species 
of  corruption  in  connexion  with  some  movement  whicli  did  irot 
concern  them,  you  would  have  found  them  as  pure  as  any  men 
need  be ;  but  when  they  believed  that  the  interests  of  their  sect 
were  involved,  when  the  advancement  of  their  thousand  philan 
thropic  schemes  and  speculations  was  in  question  ;  when,  in  short, 
the  dirty  lane  had  such  "  a  treat"  at  the  end  of  it  as  the  genius 
and  services  of  a  man  like  Mr.  Medlicott,  the  muck  and  the  mire 
must  have  been  very  thick  indeed  that  would  have  deterred 
either  of  those  worthy  Quakers  from  tramping  through  it.  Mr. 
Wilson,  indeed,  was  beginning  to  put  one  op  two  very  natural 
questions  to  Mr.  Reynard,  as  to  the  employment  of  the  gold  he 
required,  when  he  was  checked  by  Harvey,  who  said — 

"  Thou  art  not  a  man  of  the  law,  Friend  Wilson,  any  more 
than,  myself.  Neither  thou  nor  I  understandest  these  matters  ; 
sufficient  to  every  man  is  the  knowledge  that  appertaineth  to  his 
own  trade  and  calling.  Friend  Reynard  will  take  care  that 
everything  is  done  that  ought  to  be  done,  and  that  nothing  is 
done  that  ought  not  to  be  done.  If  thou  requirest  three  hundred 
pounds,  Friend  Reynard,  thou  shalt  have  it, — in  what  shape 
wouldest  thou  like  the  money  ?" 

"  A  bag  of  sovereigns,"  said  Reynard. 

"  If  thou  callest  on  me  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  thou 
shalt  have  the  bag." 

Reynard  pondered  a  moment,  and  then  said,  it  would  be 
impossible  for  him -to  call  himself,  but  he  would  send  a  trusty 
person  to  Mr.  Harvey  at  the  hour  appointed. 

"  As  thou  pleasest,  Friend,"  said  Harvey. 

"  Better  still,"  said  Reynard,  "  you  will  hand  the  bag  o'vei 
to  Mr.  Wilson,  who  will  hand  it  over  to  my  messenger." 

"  Thou  hast  good  reasons,  Friend,  I  have  no  doubt,"  said 
Harvey,  "  for  thy  circumbendibus  everything  shall  be  done 
agreeable  to  thy  wishes." 


OE,  THE   COMING  MAN.  327 

Mr.  Broad  asked  tHe  attorney,  as  they  left  the  Quaker's  shop, 
what  his  reasons  were  for  passing  the  bag  of  gold  through  so 
many  hands. 

"  Oh,"  said  Reynard,  "  it  would  not  be  necessary  only  for 
the  number  of  mean  suspicious  rogues  there  are  in  the  world, 
particularly  on  election  committees.  You  have^  no  idea  how 
prevalent  a  spirit  of  low  curiosity  is  among  a  certain  class  of 
honorable  gentlemen,  particularly  where  money  is  concerned. 
We  can't  be  too  cautious,  let  us  be  ever  so  honest,  take  my 
word  for  it." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

WHEELS  WITniN  WHEELS. 

ON  the  day  of  the  meeting  at  Lord  Maudlin's,  Dr.  Pigwidgeon 
had  no  more  notion  of  standing  for  Chichester  than  he  had  of 
contesting  the  West  Riding  of  Yorkshire ;  nor  did  Mr.  Medli- 
cott  dream  of  meeting  any  opposition  in  that  city,  except  upon 
purely  public  grounds.  We  have  now  to  relate  a  little  morsel 
of  secret  history,  to  explain  how  it  came  to  pass  that  the  move 
ments  of  Reuben's  friends  became  prematurely  known  in  quar 
ters  most  hostile  to  him,  how  the  breast  of  the  Doctor  became 
fired  with  the  same  ambition  that  inflamed  greater  men,  and 
who  encouraged  and  supported  him  in  his  daring  undertaking. 

Mr.  Bavard,  who  had  started  in  life  as  a  medical  man,  and 
acted  as  family  physician  to  some  of  the  ailing  nobility,  having 
given  up  for  some  years  that  line  of  practice,  tried  his  hand  suc 
cessively  at  several  other  things,  and  settled  down  at  last  into  a 
sort  of  professional  toad-eating  and  sycophancy,  which  agreed 
well  enough  with  his  social  talents,  and  raised  instead  of  lower 
ing  his  position  in  the  world. 

At  this  time  it  happened  to  be  an  habitue  of  the  Bar- 
sacs,  to  whom  he  was  both  useful  and  agreeable,  fetching 
and  carrying  gossip  from  great  houses  to  which  he  had  or  pre 
tended- to  have  access;  nosing  out  bargains  of  picture's  for  the 
merchant  who  had  become  a  connoisseur  in  painting;  doing  the 
talk  at  their  massive  dinners,  and  a  variety  of  little  ser rices  of 
the  like  honourable  nature.  Among  other  things,  he  had  man 
aged  to  get  the  portrait  of  brown  Sherry  into  the  Book  of 


828  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 


Beauty,  without  which,  there  was  reason  to  think,  she  would 
not  have  completed  the  conquest  of  Mr.  Leadenhall,  the  old 
East  India  director,  to  whom  she  had  now  been  about  a  year 
married. 

At  Barsac's  table  Mr.  Bavard  had  some  opportunities  (not 
many,  for  he  was  not  often  asked  to  first-class  parties),  of  meet 
ing  the  Bishop  of  Shrewsbury.  The  Bishop  had  treated  him 
with  as  much  contempt  and  neglect  as  it  was  possible  for  one 
man  to  show  to  another ;  he  silenced  him  without  mercy  when 
he  attempted  to  be  anecdotic ;  but  Bavard  was  not,  the  man  to 
be  easily  repulsed  by  any  amount  of  snubbing  and  oversight. 
The  more  the  Bishop  overlooked  him,  the  more  intently  he  fixed 
his  regards  on  the  Bishop,  and  at  length  he  discovered  the  true 
road  and  short  cut  to  his  heart,  which  consisted  in  bedaubing 
his  works  with  the  grossest  flattery,  and  abusing  everybody 
whom  he  knew  his  Lordship  disliked.  He  very  soon  ascertain 
ed  that  to  hear  anything  to  his  grandson's  disadvantage  was 
music  to  the  old  man's  ears.  How  it  became  known  beyond 
the  Society  of  Friends  that  Reuben  was  the  writer  of  the  de 
fence  of  Quakerism  was  by  no  means  certain  ;  probably  his  own 
vanity  led  him  to  boast  of  that  production  in  places  where  it  was 
imprudent  to  do  so  ;  but,  however  it  happened,  the  truth  oozed 
out,  as  all  truth  will  sooner  or  later,  and  at  length  coming  to  Mr. 
Bavard's  ear  in  London,  it  was  not  long  in  making  the  journey 
from  thence  to  the  palace  at  Shrewsbury.  The  rage  of  the  Bishop 
was  far  greater  upon  this  occasion  than  it  had  been  before,  even 
when  he  was  attacked  for  deserting  his  principles,  and  denounced 
as  an  apostate.  In  fact,  Reuben's  pamphlet  was,  upon  some  points, 
(where  the  Bishop's  passions  had  betrayed  his  judgment,)  really 
a  triumphant  answer  ;  and  a  man  who  piqued  himself  chiefly  on 
his  controversial  powers  could  bear  anything  better  than  that. 
The  Bishop  was  in  London  shortly  after,  met  his  informant  at 
Portland-plaoB,  and  for  the  first  time  noticed  and  smiled  on  him. 
Nothing  passed,  however,  on  the  subject  of  Bavard's  revelation, 
but  the  conversation  turning  after  dinner  upon  the  House  of 
Commons  and  the  rising  talent  of  the  day,  somebody  mentioned 
Mr.  Medlicott's  name  with  applause,  adding  that  his  friends  were 
determined  to  procure  him  a  seat  in  Parliament  by  hook  or 
crook. 

The  Bishop  instantly  broke  out  into  the  stormiest  abuse  of 
his  relation,  greatly  to  the  distress  of  Mrs.  Wyndham,  who  was 
present.  As  usual,  there  was  a  great  deal  of  truth  mingled  with 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  329 

the  violence  of  his  invectives.  He  never  once  mentioned  his 
grandson's  name,  but  assailed  him  with  equal  effect  as  one  of  a 
class  of  talking1  adventurers,  who  were  springing  up  everywhere 
like  mushrooms,  and  becoming  the  pest  of  the  community. 
Men  who  failed  at  every  thing  else,  for  want  of  knowledge,  or 
industry,  or  the  commonest  abilities,  aspired  to  be  statesmen, 
and  thought  themselves  perfectly  qualified  to  legislate  for  the 
.kingdom ;  the  offcasts  of  all  the  professions — doctors  without 
patients,  lawyers  without  briefs,  fellows  without  an  idea  in  their 
heads,  or  a  guinea  in  their  pockets,  were  talking  themselves  into 
notoriety,  and  there  were  plenty  of  fools  to  listen  to  them. 
The  next  Parliament  would  be  a  Parliament  of  quacks  and  cox 
combs,  of  assess  and  parrots.  The  only  fortunate  circumstance 
was,  that  the  same  ignorance  and  emptiness  which  made  such 
people  politicians,  usually  made  them  paupers  also :  elections 
cost  money,  and  he  was  glad  of  it.  A  few  thousand  pounds 
could  not  possibly  be  better  laid  out,  than  in  defeating  the  im 
pudent  attempts  of  those  worthless  adventurers,  to  thrust  them 
selves  into  the  legislature. 

Bavard  lingered  at  the  table  that  evening  until  he  was  alone 
with  Mr.  Barsac,  whose  slavish  readiness  to  humour  every  whim 
or  passion  of  the  Bishop  was  perfectly  well  known  to  all  his 
acquaintance.  They  conversed  together  in  private  for  half  an 
hour,  and  the  result  was,  that  Barsac  commissioned  the  other 
to  keep  a  sharp  watch  on  Mr.  Medlicott's  proceedings,  to  discov 
er  what  place  he  aimed  at  representing, "  for,"  said  the  mer 
chant,  a  littl  •  warmed  with  his  own  wine,  "it's  a  public  duty 
to  try  to  keep  such  a  man  as  that  out  of  Parliament,  and  if 
it  costs  some  thousands  to  do  it,  the  money  shall  be  forth 
coming." 

Bavard  had  now  just  the  sort  of  occupation  that  suited  his 
delicate  moral  tastes  ;  and  he  had  resorted  to  a  variety  of  shabby 
tricks  before  he  attended  the  meeting  of  Mr.  Medlicott's  friends 
in  Cavendish-square.  From  that  meeting  he  proceeded  straight 
to  Portland-place  ;  but  on  his  way  he  met  little  Griffin,  the  pur 
suivant,  than  whom  Reuben  had  not  a  more  malignant  enemy  in 
the  world,  ever  since  Griffin  stole  his  paper  on  heraldry,  and  got 
himself  made  Blue  Mantle  on  the  strength  of  it.  To  this  gentle- 
man,  accordingly,  Bavard  related  everything ;  what  Mr.  Medlicott 
was  about  to  do,  and  what  steps  Mr.  Barsac  was  bent  upon  taking 
to  counteract  him.  Griffin  was  not  slow  to  propose  himself  as 
the  rival  candidate,  but  Bavard  satisfied  him  that  nobody  would 


830  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

answer  \vho  was  not  to  -some  extent  locally  connected  with 
Chicb  ester. 

"  Then  I  know  a  man,"  said  Griffin,  "  who  will  answer  your 
purpose  to  a  nicety,  my  intimate  friend,  Mr.  Pigwidgeon.  lie  is 
coqueting  at  this  moment  with  the  Irish  borough  of  Blarney,  but 
he  will  only  be  too  happy  to  give  that  up,  and  stand  for  his  na 
tive  city,  if  Mr.  Barsac  will  come  down  with  the  necessary  funds." 

"  What  sort  of  a  fellow  is  he  ?"  inquired  Bavard.  . 

"  I  need  hardly  tell  you  he's  an  orator,"  said  the  other,  "  or 
the  people  of  Blarney  would  never  have  looked  at  him  ;  he  is 
the  best  speaker,  beyond  all  comparison,  t  ever  heard  in  my  life. 
He  is  the  'coming  man/  in  my  opinion.  A  noble,  high-minded 
fellow,  full  of  heart  as  he  is  of  talent.  He  is  just  the  man,  let 
me  tell  you,  who  won't  forget  a  service  done  him  when  he  is  in 
a  situation  to  repay  it." 

This  speech,  particularly  the  last  sentence  of  it,  decided  Mr. 
Bavard's  course.  He  saw  Mr.  Barsac,  and  then  Griffin  again, 
that  same  evening ;  went  with  him  to  Mr.  Pigwidgeon's,  and 
then  they  all  went  together  to  Portland-place,  where  everything 
was  arranged  before  midnight  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  parties. 
Mr.  Pigwidgeon,  having  already  prevailed  on  his  father  to  ad 
vance  a  thousand  pounds  towards  the  purchase  of  the  Irish 
borough,  was  perfectly  content  with  Barsac's  promise  to  advance 
another  thousand  ;  the  latter  reckoned  on  the  Bishop  paying 
the  money  himself,  to  gratify  his  spite  against  his  grandson. 
Griffin  engaged  himself  to  write  the  squibs  for  the  election,  at 
the  rate  of  five  guineas  a  piece ;  and  Mr.  Bavard  was  gratified 
with  an  assurance  of  Mr.  Pigwidgeon's  future  patronage,  and  the 
honour  of  his  friendship  iu  the  mean  time. 


CHAPTER  X. 

HOW  THE  CONTEST  WAS  COST  00TKD. 

A  CONTESTED  election  splits  the  society  of  county  or  county  town, 
no  matter  how  united  previously,  just  as  a  thunderbolt  splits  a 
forest-tree,  let  the  wood  be  of  ever  so  tough  a  fibre.  Forty-eight 
hours  before  the  public  announcement  of  the  candidates,  not  a 
dozen  inhabitants  of  the  place  (beyond  the  circle  of  his  immediate 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  331 

relatives  and  friends)  were  troubling  their  heads  about  Mr.  Med- 
licott,  and  not  half  the  number  cared  a  groat  whether  his  oppo 
nent  was  on  this  side  or  that  of  the  Stygian  ferry  ;  yet  no  sooner 
was  the  announcement  made,  no  sooner  did  the  recognised 
lead  era  of  the  local  parties  formally  recommend  those  gentlemen 
to  the  notice  of  their  friends  and  followers  respectively,  than  the 
whole  city  divided  itself  in  twain  with  a  celerity  that  was  quite 
astonishing ;  every  man  you  met  was  either  a  Reubenite  or  a 
Pigwidgeonite ;  you  would  have  supposed  that  the  veiy  exist 
ence  of  Chichester  depended  upon  the  relative  merits  of  the 
Vicar's  son  and  the  apothecary's  ;  a  disruption  took  place  of  the 
oldest  social  ties  ;  ancient  friendships  were  suspended  ;  candour 
was  banished  by  universal  consent ;  decency  was  sent  off  in  the 
same  ship  ;  in  short,  to  express  the  moral  change  that  took  place 
in  the  inflated  language,  which  Mr  Medlicott  would  probably 
have  used  himself,  Truth  and  Honesty  flew  back  to  Heaven,  and 
the  spirits  of  Falsehood  and  Corruption  ascended  from  the  bot 
tomless  pit,  to  reign  for  a  season  in  their  stead. 

The  head -quarters  of  Mr.  Medlicott's  friends  was  an  inn  called 
the  Parrot.  His  opponents  established  themselves  at  the  Magpie, 
and  each  interest  made  itself  excessively  merry  with  the  other's 
bird,  and  pronounced  it  most  appropriate  and  happily  emble 
matic.  In  a  few  days  the  names  of  the  birds  began  to  pass  cur 
rent  for  those  of  the  parties  ;  Reuben's  friends  going  by  the 
name  of  the  Parrots,  while  Mr.  Pig-widgeon's  were  called  the 
Magpies.  The  actual  bribery  went  on  at  neither  of  the  inns,  but 
in  two  modest  and  retiring  places  which  had  long  enjoyed  the 
appellations  of  Guinea  Lane  and  Yellow  Row  ;  no  doubt  given  to 
them  in  consequence  of  the  virtuous  practices  for  which  they  were 
notorious.  The  particular  houses  in  those  lanes,  where  the  busi 
ness  was  earned  on,  were  well-known  to  all  persons  connected 
with  the  city,  with  the  curious  exception  of  every  one  who  had 
ever  represented,  or  sought  to  represent  it  in  P?irliament,  some 
of  whom  were  even  strangely  ignorant  that  such  places  as  Yellow 
Row  and  Guinea  Lane  existed. 

The  electric  telegraph  had  not  been  discovered,  yet  the  rapi 
dity  with  which  the  facts  were  known  that  Mr.  Reynard  was 
agent  for  Mr.  Medlicott,  that  there  was  an  ample  capital  to  draw 
on,  and  that  a  bag  of  three  hundred  sovereigns  had  actually  been 
placed  in  the  attorney's  hands,  was  such  as  to  justify  a  suspicion 
that  some  agency  of  extraordinary,  if  not  magical,  character  had 
been  employed  to  convey  the  interesting  intelligence  Reynard's 


832  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

very  name  had  the  chink  of  ready  money  to  the  ear  of  the  :-.<r- 
ruptibles.  A  physiognomist  acquainted  -  with  the  sordid  lines 
which  the  paltry  vice  of  covetousness  delves  in  the  human  coun 
tenance,  might  have  distinguished  a  certain  class  of  voters  as  he 
walked  the  streets.  The  hope  of  a  five-pound  note  brought  the 
glorious  privileges  of  the  British  constitution  home  to  the  hearts 
and  bosoms  of  a  band  of  electors,  not,  perhaps,  the  majority  of  the 
constituents,  but  sufficiently  numerous  to  reduce  the  suffrages  of 
the  honest  portion  to  practical  insignificance.  The  coolest  mem 
bers  of  the  community,  at  a  moment  of  such  general  excitement, 
were  those  who  had  come  to  the  determination  of  putting  them 
selves  up  for  sale,  and  knocking  themselves  down  to'  the  highest 
bidder.  No  personal  affections  or  animosities  warped  them  ;  no 
political  passions  inflamed  them  ;  no  enthusiasm  for  reform  or 
philanthropy  betrayed  them  into  extravagance,  or  for  a  moment 
diverted  their  minds  from  the  simple  calculation  of  the  market- 
value  of  their  votes.  To  them  it  was  nothing  whether  Medlicott 
or  Pigwidgeon  was  the  greater  orator,  or  whether  this  cause  or 
that  cause  was  likely  to  be  advanced  or  prejudiced  by  the  triumph 
of  the  one  or  the  other.  To  these  single-minded  men,  the  only 
questions  were,  which  of  the  candidates  had  the  most  to  spend, 
and  which  of  them  was  most  disposed  to  spend  it.  They  were 
to  be  seen  walking  about  the  town  with  their  left  hands  thrust 
ostentatiously  into  their  breeches  pockets,  a  sign  agreed  upon 
among  them,  and  perfectly  well  understood  to  be  a  public  adver 
tisement  of  their  resolution  to  sell  their  country. 

There  was  another  fraction  of  the  constituency  which  had 
intellectual  tastes,  political  feelings,  and  moral  principles ;  but 
being  exposed  to  various  foul  influences,  and  deficient  in  moral 
courage,  ardently  desired  to  follow  the  dictates  of  their  con 
sciences,  but  were  more  likely,  in  the  event  of  a  fierce  struggle, 
to  obey  the  commands  of  their  customers,  acquiesce  in  the 
pleasure  of  their  landlords,  or  yield  to  the  intimidation  of  the 
rabble.  Of  this  unfortunate  class  (to  whom  the  possession  of  the 
franchise  was  nothing  but  a  misfortune)  some  preserved  a  stub 
born  silence  on  the  subject  of  the  coming  election  ;  some  openly 
and  justly  complained  of  the  constitution  that  gave  them  a  priv 
ilege  without  protecting  them  in  the  use  of  it ;  while  others, 
ashamed  of  the  tyranny  to  which  they  succumbed,  affected  ap 
probation  of  the  course  to  which  thuy  foresaw  they  would  alti- 
mately  be  driven  by  it.  Practically  and  virtually,  these  unfortu 
nate  people  were  only  the  proxies  of  others,  who  really  possessed 


OE,  THE  COMING  MAN.  833 

the  influence  which  the  voters  nominally  wielded  ;  in  many  cases 
they  were  the  proxies  of  persons  to  whom  the  law  had  positively 
refused  the  right  of  suffrage,  disqualifying  them  to  vote  them 
selves,  while  it  most  preposterously  enabled  them  to  dictate  and 
control  the  votes  of  others. 

The  Vicar  and  his  friend  Mr.  Cox  had  hitherto  been  opposed 
to  secret  voting,  but  being  particularly  interested  in  this  contest, 
and  consequently  paying  more  attention  to  its  details  than  they 
had  ever  paid  to  an  election  before,  they  could  never  afterwards 
understand  how  any  man,  sincerely  desirous  to  diminish  the  evils 
of  bribery  and  intimidation,  could  object  to  the  system  of  the 
ballot.  Old  Mr.  Medlicott  had  the  evils  of  terrorism  brought 
under  his  own  eyes  in  a  very  distinct  and  curious  manner. 
He  discovered  that  his  own  wife  had  been  guilty  of  threat 
ening  to  withdraw  her  paltry  little  custom  from  bakers,  and 
butchers,  and  other  tradesmen,  should  they  presume  to  vote 
against  her  son.  You  may  suppose  how  angry  this  made  an 
honest  little  man  like  him.  He  gave  the  lady  a  hearty  rating  for 
her  unconstitutional  practices,  desired  to  have  no  more  such  foul 
doings,  and  going  round  to  every  one  of  the  little  shops  that 
had  been  threatened,  disclaimed  in  the  most  explicit  terms  all  par 
ticipation  or  approval  of  Mrs.  Medlicott's  most  improper  conduct. 

But  when  the  struggle  began  in  earnest,  there  was  corruption 
enough  of  every  kind,  -which  was  utterly  beyond  the  control  of 
Reuben's  friends,  or  the  conscientious  portion  of  them.  Before 
either  of  the  rivals  appeared  6n  the  stage,  Mr.  Primrose  saw  enough 
to  make  him  regret  that  he  had  taken  any  part  in  the  business 
at  all,  and  placing  Mrs.  Mountjoy's  purse  in  Dr.  Page's  hands,  he 
made  a  precipitate  retreat  to  London. 

In  every  battle  somebody,  of  course,  must  fire  the  first  shot. 
The  first  shot  upon  this  occasion  was  fired  by  the  enemy  in  the 
form  of  a  monstrous  libel  upon  Mr.  Medlicott,  from  the  pen  of 
his  friend  Mr.  Griffin. 

Mrs.  Medlicott.  was  in  despair,  and  went  about  the  house 
wringing  her  hands,  and  complaining  in  the  itterest  terms  of 
the  falsehood  of  the  article. 

'  "  One  would  think  that  you  wished  it  was  all  true,"  said  the 
Vicar.  "  The  falsehood  .is  just  the  thing  you  ought  to  be  glad 
of.  We  must  see  about  answering  it,  or  getting  it  retracted.'' 

Dr.  Page  swore  he  would  make  them  eat  their  words,  and 
taking  a  cudgel  in  his  hand,  which  he  had  probably  bought 
with  an  eye  to  such  uses,  he  strolled  into  the  village. 


334  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

The  libel  was  evidently  the  "production  of  a  master  of  the  art. 
After  stating  a  good  deal  that  was  reasonable  enough  about  the 
desultory  life  Reuben  had  led,  and  treating  his  pretensions,  upon 
public  grounds,  with  a  contempt  and  ridicule  to  which  no  fair 
objection  could  be  made,  the  article  suddenly  assumed  the  high 
est  moral  tone,  laid  down  the  *l>road  principle  that  public  virtue 
was  incompatible  with  private  vices,  and  deplored  the  imperious 
necessity  which  sometimes  compelled  a  writer  to  discuss  subjects 
at  once  the  most  delicate  anu  ii;e  most  repulsive.  But  duty  (as 
usual  in  all  such  cases)  was  the  paramount  consideration ;  and 
he  would,  therefore,  give  the  electors  of  Chichester  a  plain,  un 
varnished  history  of  the  man  who  had  the  incomparable  insolence 
to  solicit  the  suffrages  of  that  ancient  and  venerable  city. 
Then  followed  a  series  of  statements,  many  of  them  sheer 
fictions,  others  founded  upon  little  facts  in  Reuben's  early  career, 
which  we  have  already  imparted  to  our  readers  without  lowering 
him  much  in  their  good  opinion.  The  writer  trembled,  as  he 
said,  to  approach  that  particular  era  of  Mr.  Medlicott's  life,  when 
he  was  the  favoured  inmate  of  his  grandfather's  house  in  Here 
fordshire,  and,  after  disgracing  the  hospitable  mansion  of  that 
great  and  good  man,  with  debaucheries  for  which  even  the  hot 
blood  of  youth  was  no  apology,  set  one  wing  of  it  on  fire,  to  destroy 
the  records  of  his  orgies,  and  to  some  extent  actually  effected  his 
profligate  purpose.  He  willingly  passed  over  in  silence  many  a 
year  spent  in  low  conviviality,  in  habits  of  daily  intimacy  with 
the  scum  of  society  ;  but  he  would  like  to  know  wheiher  the  pot- 
companions  of  glaziers  and  carpenters,  the  bosom  friend  of  shoe 
makers  and  tailors,  the  Lothario  of  dairy-maids,  and  the  Orpheus 
of  the  ale-house  was  a  proper  person  to  represent  the  capital  of 
Sussex  ?  Would  he  dare  to  confess  to  the  world  the  nature  of 
his  well-known  connection  with  a  gang  of  French  adventurers, 
who  commenced  their  career  at  Hereford,  who  travelled  from 
thence  to  Cambridge,  shoemakers  in  one  place,  booksellers  in 
another,  and  hairdressers  (he  believed)  at  this  "present  moment 
in  London  ?  Mr.  Medlicott  was  impregnable,  indeed  upon  one 
point ;  he  was  safe  on  the  subject  of  his  intrigues  with  the  fair 
sex ;  bnt  he  was  safe  only  because  they  were  too  scandalous  to 
be  alluded  to  by  any  writer  of  common  decency.  What  would 
the  virtuous  inhabitants  of  that  virtuous  city  think  of  a  man,  of 
whom  it  was  stated  (and,  alas,  upon  too  solid  grounds),  that  he 
had  gone  the  horrible  and  incredible  length  of  attempting  to 
seduce  the  affections  of  his  own  grandmother ;  but,  to  the  eternal 


OR,  THE  COMING   MAN.  335 

honour  of  her  sex,  that  paragon  of  female  purity  had  repelled 
his  insulting  addresses,  and  had  only  been  prevented  by  motives 
easily  understood  from  publicly  exposing  and  denouncing  her 
shameless  assailant. 

With  this  libel  in  his  pocket,  Dr.  Page  walked  into  the 
apothecary's  shop.  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  was  not  at  home  ;  he  had 
gone  to  town  to  meet  his  son,  who  was  expected  to  arrive  that 
evening  from  London.  The  Doctor  hired  a  horse  at  the  inn, 
rode  into  Chichester,  and  went  straight  to  the  office  of  the  news 
paper.  He  first  asked  for  the  editor,  who  was  not  to  be  seen  ; 
then  he  inquired  if  by  any  chance  his  friend  Mr.  Pigwidgeon 
was  on  the  premises,  putting  the  question  with  all  possible  sua 
vity,  so  as  to  disarm  any  suspicion  of  a  hostile  intention,  which, 
indeed,  his  whiskers  and  the  cudgel  were  well  calculated  to 
awaken.  The  stratagem  succeeded.  The  Doctor  was  introduced 
the  next  moment  into  a  small  room,  full  of  desks  and  papers, 
where  he  found  the  apothecary  seated  with  another  gentleman, 
from  whose  countenance  he  concluded,  at  the  first  glance,  he  was 
the  person  who  wrote  the  li'  vl,  no  matter  who  was  responsible 
for  its  publication.  Griffir  vtvs  the  very  incarnation  of  the  spirit 
of  the  cowardly,  base,  and  malignant  libeller.  The  cowardice 
was  in  his  complexion,  the  malignity  in  his  eye,  the  baseness 
everywhere.  There  never  was  a  quicker  operation  of  the  mind 
than  that  by  which  both  he  and  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  connected  the 
cudgel  with  ihe  attack  on  Reuben  the  moment  the  Doctor  er/- 
tered  the  room. 

The  latter  being  a  man  of  very  few  words,  came  to  the  sub 
ject  of  his  visit  with  the  shortest  possible  preamble;  said  he  took 
the  liberty  of  waiting  on  Mr.  Pigwidgeon,  in  consequence  of 
some  compliments  that  had  been  lately  paid  to  Mr.  Reuben  Med- 
licott  in  print,  and  begged  to  know  whether  the  apothecary  or  his 
friend  was  the  author,  as,  upon  such  occasions,  he  was  always 
particular  about  punishing  the  proper  person. 

Mr.  Pigwidgeon  replied,  with  a  visible  quivering  all  over, 
_that  he  knew  nothing  about  what  the  Doctor  alluded  to,  and 
that,  at  all  events,  the  editor  was  the  only  responsible  person  for 
whatever  appeared  in  the  paper.  Mr.  Griffin  had  only  just  ar 
rived  in  Chichester,  and  what  could  he  know  of  any  such  matter? 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Page,  planting  himself  pugnaciously  oppo 
site  to  them  both,  "  if  I  had  the  editor  here,  I  should  probably 
address  myself  to  him  alone,  but  as,  fortunately  for  himself,  he 
is  elsewhere,  I  mean  to  hold  you  two  severally  and  jointly  re- 


336  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

sponsible  for  tlie  ruffianly  libel  upon  my  absent  friend,  and  there 
is  but  one  condition  that  shall  save  you  from  my  immediate  ven 
geance  ;  you  must  promise  to  insert  the  amplest  retraction,  and 
most  abject  apology,  in  the  next  number  of  your  publication." 

Griffin  looked  furtively  round  the  room,  to  see  if  there  was 
any  window  to  escape  by,  while  the  apothecary  mumbled  a  pro 
test  against  unnecessary  violence,  and  said  he  was  sure  his  friend 
the  editor  would  be  glad  to  qualify  any  observations  he  might 
have  made,  in  the  heat  of  a  moment,  calculated  to  hurt  th«» 
feelings  of  anybody  in  the  world. 

"  Qualification  won't  do,"  said  the  Doctor  ;  "  retraction  is  the 
word  ;  and  to  save  you  the  trouble  of  additional  composition,  Til 
dictate  the  terms  of  it.  Take  the  pen  in  your  hand,  Mr.  Griffin, 
and  write  what  I  bid  you."" 

Griffin  hesitated  and  murmured,  but  the  club  hanging  over 
him  like  a  comet,  overcame  all  other  considerations.  The  follow 
ing  was  the  Doctor's  prescription,  word  for  word  : — 

"  The  undersigned  hereby  acknowledges  that  the  article  re 
lating  to  the  character  of  Mr.  Rer  -n  Medlicott,  published  in 
the  '  Chich  ester  Mercury'  of  the  —  inst.,  was  written  by  him,  and 
that  the  statements  in  it  to  the  prejudice  of  that  gentleman  are 
utterly  false  and  unfounded ;  that  he  had  no  ground  whatsoever  for 
imputing  any  immoral  or  dishonourable  conduct  to  Mr.  Medli 
cott  at  any  period  of  his  life  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  believes  and 
knows  him  to  be  no  less  distinguished  by  the  spotlessness  of  his 
reputation,  than  by  the  variety  of  his  accomplishments,  and  the 
splendour  of  his  talents." 

"Now  read  it  over  for  me,"  said  Page,  "till  I  see  if  it  runs 
smooth."  . 

With  this  request,  also,  Mr.  Griffin  complied,  and  only  mut 
tered  an  objection  to  the  statement  respecting  Mr.  Medlicott's 
talents  and  accomplishments,  of  which,  he  said,  he  knew  nothing. 

"  If  you  are  ever  called  in  question  for  that  part  of  it,  give 
me  as  your  authority,"  said  the  Doctor-;  uand  now  your  sig 
nature,  sir,  if  you  please." 

"  This  is  very  hard,"  grumbled  the  caitiff,  in  the  humour  of 
Pistol  swallowing  the  leek. 

"  I  dare  say"  said  Page,  "  this  is  not  the  first  document  of  the 
kind  you  have  put  your  name  to,  in  your  time." 

He  then  took  the  paper,  Landed  it  to  Mr.  Pigvvidgeon,  told 
him  he  would  hold  him  responsible  for  its  publication,  and  went 
his  way,  much  prouder  of  his  exploit  than  he  had  reason  to  be. 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  337 

for  the  result  proved  that  such  violent  men  as  the  Doctor  are  not 
the  best  friends  to  have  at  one's  back  in  a  contested  election, 
any  more  than  other  critical  situations  in  life. 


CHAPTER  XL      . 

THE  CONQUERING  HERO  OOME8. 

for  ever!  Hurrah  for  Pigwidgeon  1"  No  sooner 
.  had  Dr.  Page  stepped,  into  the  street,  than  his  ears  were  saluted 
with  the  foregoing  animated  cries,  proceeding  from  a  little  mob 
collected  round  a  stage-coach  which  had  just  that  moment 
stopped  at  the  Magpie  Inn,  which  was  situated  in  South-street, 
nearly  opposite  the  principal  front  of  Matthew  Cox's  house.  Dr. 
Page  hastened  to  the  tobacconist's,  where  he  found  the  Vicar, 
his  wife,  and  old  Hannah  Hopkins,  just  arrived,  in  a  state  of 
great  excitement,  a  letter  having  been  received  from  Reuben 
which  led  them  to  expect  his  appearance  every  moment.  Mrs. 
Medlicott  and  Mrs.  Hopkins  were  conducted  by  Mr.  Cox  to  an 
upper  apartment,  which  commanded  a  view  of  the  streets  in 
several  directions,  and  where  several  buxom  matrons  and  fair 
maidens  of  Chichester  and  the  neighbourhood  were  already  as 
sembled,  admirers  of  Reuben  every  one  of  them,  and  all  palpita 
ting  with  anxiety  to  witness  his  public  entry.  Mrs.  Winning,  of 
Sunbury,  a  fine  old  lady,  and  an  ardent  politician,  was  there 
among  the  rest.  Some  of  the  mothers  had  brought  their  sons 
with  them  to  stimulate  their  talents  and  virtues  by  Mr  Medli- 
cott's  splendid  example,  and  three  of  these  hopeful  boys  were 
his  godchildren  and  namesakes,  Reuben  Gosling,  Reuben  Bliss, 
and  Reuben  Medlicott  Robinson.  Little  Gosling  took  great  airs 
on  himself,  as  having  been  one  of  the  deputation  to  London ;  but 
young  Robinson  gave  him  to  understand  he  considered  himself 
quite  as  important  a  personage,  inasmuch  as  he  was  a  Medlicott 
as  well  as  a  Reuben. 

The  Doctor  having  tied  up  his  horse  under  the  la"burnums  in 
the  lane,  stationed  himself  with  the  Vicar  and  Mr.  Cox  at  the 
shop-door,  whence  they  all  had  the  satisfaction  of  hearing  the 
first  speech  of  the  new  candidate,  who  was  haranguing  from  the 
top  of  the  Wonder,  brandishing  a  stick  almost  as  large  as  Page's, 
and  as  white  as  a  miller  with  the  dust  of  the  road. 
15 


838  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

"  Pigwidgeon  for  ever  !  Hurrah  for  Pigwidgeon  !  Hurrah, 
hurrah — hear  him,  hear  him  !" 

When  we  say  that  Mr.  Cox  and  his  friends  heard  the  speech, 
we  only  mean  that  they  heard  the  noise  or  the  wind  of  it,  quite 
enough  to  satisfy  them  that  the  orator  had  an  unrivalled  case  of 
lungs  in  his  chest,  but  not  sufficient  to  warrant  any  conclusion 
as  to  the  brains  in  his  head,  if  upon  that  point  they  had  not  been 
satisfied  already.  His  action,  however,  was  tremendous.  The 
air  never  got  such  a  buffeting ;  and  how  the  boxes  and  trunks 
which  served  for  a  rostrum  held  together  under  all  the  stamping, 
was  truly  miraculous.  The  windows  had  already  flown  up  all 
along  the  street,  and  were  soon  filled  with  clusters  of  excited  faces ; 
the  young  tag-rag  and  bob-tail  of  the  town  climbed  the  lamp 
posts  like  monkeys,  and  everybody  who  could  clamber  upon  a 
waggon,  a  van,  or  a  donkey-cart,  did  so. 

"  He  has  words  at  will,  at  all  events,"  said  the  Doctor. 

"  Wonders  will  never  cease,"  said  the  Vicar.  "  I  remember 
when  everybody  considered  that  fellow  the  greatest  booby  in 
Chichester,  and  now  he  is  standing  for  the  city,  and  will  be  re 
turned  for  all  that  I  know." 

"  Never,  sir,"  said  the  Doctor  energetically,  and  striking  the 
floor  with  the  end  of  the  stick,  as  if  that  was  the  force  that  was 
to  carry  the  election. 

Mr.  Cox  shrugged  his  shoulders,  as  much  as  to  say  he  had 
seen  more  marvellous  things  in  his  time. 

Presently  it  was  evident  thaj,  the  tobacconist's  house 'was  the 
object  of  the  orator's  attention. 

"  He  is,  no  doubt,  honouring  me  with  his  abuse,"  said  old 
Matthew,  who  was  standing  in  the  back-ground  ;  "  I  thank  him 
for  it,  sincerely,  and  only  hope  he  will  never  take  to  praising 
me." 

At  the  same  moment,  a  varlet  from  a  lamp-post,  who  had 
once  been  ^ent  by  Mr.  Cox  to  the  House  of  Correction,  proposed 
a  groan  for  him,  which  was  partially  responded  to  by  the  rest  of 
the  tag-rag  and  bob-tail.  But  Page  happening  to  draw  to  one 
side  at  the  instant,  this  accidental  movement  brought  the  vener 
able  old  citizen  into  view,  whereupon  a  very  different  demonstra 
tion  took  place ;  somebody  from  a  window  in  Mr.  Broad's  house, 
called  for  a  cheer  in  reply  to  the  groan,  and  the  call  was  so 
promptly,  lustily,  and  heartily  answered,  that  Mr.  Cox  could  not 
but  acknowledge  't,  which  he  did  with  a  courteous  and  dignified 
bow,  directed  to  th«  window  where  the  cheer  commenced. 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN. 

The  orator,  never  a  whit  abashed,  very  adroitly  took  off  hia 
hat,  and  with  a  prodigious  flourish  began  most  respectfully  to 
salute  the  object  of  his  late  scurrility,  and  probably  began  to 
laud  him  at  the  same  time  in  an  equally  disgusting  strain — the 
one  gift,  as  well  as  the  other,  having  come  to  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  by 
descent  from  his  grandmother,  who  (it  may  be  remembered)  was 
"  a  Beamish,  or  at  all  events  a  Murphy."  Presently  he  had  an 
opportunity  of  making  a  still  better  hit,  and,  much  as  people 
might  despise  his  abilities,  he  did  not  fail  to  turn  it  to  advantage. 
A  donkey,  under  a  cart  which  stood  not  far  off,  began  to  bray  as 
if  the  end  of  the  world  was  at  hand.  There  was  no  use  in  any 
one  else  trying  to  be  heard  while  the  donkey  held  forth.  Some 
body  vowed  vengeance  on  the  animal,  and  called  "  Silence  ! "  as 
if  it  had  been  an  ass  of  the  human  species,  upon  which  the  orator 
exclaimed — "  Gentlemen,  hear  Mi-.  Medlicott — I  entreat  you  to 
hear  Mr.  Medlicott — fair  play,  gentlemen."  It  was  great  fun  to 
the  crowd,  and  brought  down  thunders  of  applause  from  the 
lamp-posts  and  some  of  the  windows,  as  far  as  the  joke  reached  ; 
but  it  made  Mrs.  Medlicott  wild,  and  all  the  god-sons  frantic. 
The  Vicar,  however,  was  much  amused,  and  so  was  Mr.  Cox  ; 
both  more  than  the  Doctor,  who  said  it  was  an  old  electioneering 
joke,  as  long  as  he  remembered  anything  of  elections. 

"  I  have  observed,"  said  the  Vicar,  "  that  jokes  have  their 
periodic  times  like  the  planets.  They  come  round  again  as  in 
fallibly  as  tho  most  regular  of  the  heavenly  bodies.  Some  re 
turn  at  Christmas,  others  at  Easter,  others  come  in  with  the 
grouse  or  the  partridge.  The  Budget  is  sure  to  bring  a  budget 
of  stale  jests  along  with  it.  Did  you  ever  know  a  session  to 
close  without  a  lament  over  the  dropped  bills,  and  a  facetious 
allusion  to  the  massacre  of  the  innocents  ?  A  general  election 
itself  is  only  a  septennial  farce." 

"Yet  a  dissolution  is  no  joke  to  some  people,"  said  old 
Matthew. 

"  The  turnip-tops  are  beginning  to  fly,"  said  the  Doctor,  as 
several  of  those  vegetables  missiles  now  shot  through  the  air  in 
different  directions.  One  of  them,  evidently  aimed  at  the  orator, 
struck  him  on  the  cheek,  and  he  raised  his  hand  to  it. 

"  I  wonder  what's  good  for  that  ?"  said  the  Vicar. 

"  This  work  is  beginning  too  soon,"  said  Mr.  Cox. 

The  general  attention,  however,  was  immediately  engaged 
by  a  new  cause  of  excitement.  Distant  shouts  were  heard,  and 
presently  an  opposition  coach,  called  the  Triumph,  came  thun 


840  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

dering  along,  in  a  cloud  of  dust,  and  followed,  like  the  other,  with 
a  running  corps  of  ragamuffins,  whose  whoops  and  hurrahs, 
mingled  with  the  blasts  of  the  guard's  horn,  the  barking  of  the 
curs,  the  bawling  of  Mr.  Pigwidgeon,  and  the  continued  braying 
of  his  brother  under  the  cart,  made  a  din  little  short  of  fiendish. 
The  women  began  to  be  frightened,  just  at  the  moment  when 
they  expected  most  to  enjoy  themselves,  but  the  reflection  that 
they  were  in  a  magistrate's  house  tended  to  reassure  them". 

"  I  should  not  wonder  if  Reuben  is  come  down  by  the  Tri 
umph,"  said  the  Vicar,  less  composed  now  than  he  would  have 
liked  to  admit. 

The  Doctor  hoped  Reuben  would  make  his  entry  in  a  more 
imposing  manner. 

It  was  impossible  as  yet  to  distinguish  anybody  in  the  cloud 
of  dust,  but  as  the  coach  drew  near,  the  cry  of  "  Medlicott  for 
ever !  hurrah  for  Medlicott !"  was  heard  distinctly. 

The  shouts  of  the  two  parties  now  began  to  mingle. 

"  Hurrali  for  Medlicott,  the  friend  of  the  world  !" 

"  Hurrah  for  Pigwidgeon,  the  friend  of  the  people !" 

"Medlicott  for  ever  !     Down  with  Pigwidgeon  !" 

"  Pigwidgeon  for  ever !  hurrah  for  Pigwidgeon !  Down  with 
Medlicott!" 

"  Medlicott  and  Reform  !" 

"  Medlicott  and  Sympathy  !" 

"Pigwidgeon  and  Purity  of  Election!" 

"  Down  with  Pigwidgeon  !" 

"  No  Medlicotts !" 

"  No  Pigwidgeons !" 

Dr.  Page  began  to  forget  himself  in  the  general  excitement 
and  flourish  his  stick  and  bawl  like  the  rest,  until  Mr.  Cox  called 
him  to  order,  and  showed  him  the  absolute  necessity  of  control 
ling  his  feelings,  and  setting  a  good  example. 

The  Triumph,  on  its  way  to  the  Parrot,  stopped  within  a 
few  yards  of  the  Wonder,  for  the  very  good  reason  that  the 
throng  prevented  it  from  getting  a  step  further ;  but  the  moment 
the  dust  subsided,  it  was  plain  that  Mr.  Medlicott  was  not 
among  the  passengers.  The  Doctor  rubbed  his  hands  with  glee 
It  would  never  have  answered  for  Reuben  to  have  entered  the 
town  on  the  top  of  a  stage  coach  like  his  plebeian  rival.  Mr. 
Broad,  however,  was  there,  as  his  harbinger  and  precursor,  and 
his  appearance  answered  nearly  as  well  for  the  purpose  of  in 
creasing  tho  hubbub.  Mr.  Reynard  was  along  with  our  friend 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  341 

the  cutler,  but  kept  himself  quiet :  and  the  only  other  outside 
passenger  seemed  to  be  a  foreigner,  though,  to  judge  by  his 
vivacity,  and  the  vehemence  of  his  gesticulations,  he  appeared 
to  be  as  deeply  interested  in  all  that  was  going  forward,  as  if  he 
had  been  an  elector  of  the  borough. 

"  Just  look  at  Mr.  Broad,"  said  Mr.  Cox  to  the  Vicar.  "  He 
must  make  a  fool  of  himself  because  other  people  are  doing  so. 
I  remember  when  we  could  not  get  him  to  move  a  man  out  of 
the  chair  a',  the  vestry,  and  now  he  promises  to  be  as  good  an 
orator  as  tie  best  of  them." 

"  He  is  at  it,  by  all  that's  lovely,"  said  the  Doctor. 

Mr.  Broad  had  now  got  on  the  box,  beside  the  coachman, 
and  if  he  was  not  making*a  speech,  he  was  certainly  going 
through  all  the  dumb  show  of  one,  moving  his  lips  volubly,  and 
shaking  both  his  head  and  his  hand,  either  at  the  people  on  the 
roof  of  the  Wonder,  or  the  faces  in  the  windows  of  the  Magpie. 
The  foreigner  had  jumped  up  behind  him  on  the  luggage;  his 
weapon  was  an  old  cotton  umbrella,  which  he  flourished  by  way 
of  reply  to  Mr.  Pigwidgeon's  stick,  while  he  roared  as  loud  as 
the  best  Englishman  of  them  all— 

"  I  am  for  Monsieur  Medlicott ! — a  bus  Peegviggin." 

"  That  fool  of  a  Frenchman  had  better  hold  his  tongue,"  said 
Mr.  Cox,  knowing  the  feelings  of  the  English  rabble  towards 
their  next-door  neighbours  of  the  Continent,  and  how  apt  they 
are,  under  any  circumstances,  to  quarrel  with  and  abuse  them. 
But  Monsieur  persisted  in  his  violent  exclamations  and  antics ; 
defying  the  enemy  with  the  parapluie,  and  crying — "  A  bas 
Peegviggin!  Medlicott  forever!"  Even  the  co,  chman  of  the 
Triumph  endeavoured  to  make  him  sit  down,  but  I  >  no  purpose; 
his  enthusiasm  was  not  to  be  controlled,  until  at  length  he  ex 
cited  the  feelings  of  which  Mr.  Cox  was  apprehensive,  and  a 
rush  was  made  by  some  of  the  Pigwidgeonites  to  pull  him  off 
the  box.  This  attempt  he  resisted  furiously,  keeping  his  place 
for  some  time  with  great  courage  and  resolution,  and  making 
Bavage  use  of  his  umbrella,  the  spike  at  the  end  of  which  made 
it  a  formidable  instrument.  His  assailants,  however,  were  too 
many  for  him,  and  at  last  they  succeeded  in  dragging  him  down 
into  the  street,  where  he  would  infallibly  have  been  sadly 
maltreated,  if  Mr.  Cox,  followed  by  Dr.  Page  with  his  cudgel, 
had  not  promptly  rushed  to  the  spot,  and  rescued  him  almost 
as  soon  as  he  was  in  danger.  Old  Matthew  collared  the  infuri 
ated  FrenchiBi.n,  dragged  him  into  his  shop,  and  locked  him  up 


342  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

in  a  little  private  office  he  had,  while  the  Doctor  bad  enough  to 
do  to  defend  Mr.  Broad  and  Mr.  Reynard,  which  he  accomplished, 
however,  though  not  without  some  hard  knocks,  and  getting 
one  sleeve  nearly  torn  off  his  singular  green  coat. 

"  A  good  beginning,"  said  the  Doctor. 

"  Now,  if  I  only  had  a  little  oak  box  of  mine  safe,"  said  the 
man  of  the  law,  with  considerable  anxiety,  as  if  the  value  of  the 
box  was  considerable. 

The  Doctor  now  sallied  forth  again  to  fetch  Mr.  Reynard's 
property,  but  that  was  not  so  easily  done.  It  was  as  much  as  a 
man  could  do  to  lift  it,  and  while  the  Doctor  was  in  the  act  of 
receiving  it  from  the  hands  of  the  guard,  he  dropped  his  stick, 
and  some  rogue  in  the  crowd  hustltng  him  at  the  same  moment, 
he  dropped  the  box  also,  which  fell  on  the  pavement  with  a  loud 
ringing  sound,  as  if  it  had  been  all  metal,  and  being  at  the  same 
time  partially  broken  by  the  concussion,  out  flew  half  a  dozen 
broken  sovereigns  and  rolled  about  the  street.  The  sight  of  the 
gold  literally  maddened  the  knaves  who  were  near  the  spot  and 
witnessed  this  untimely  outpouring  of  the  wealth  of  the  Reuben- 
ites.  A  ferocious  scramble  instantly  took  place  for  the  few  coins 
that  had  escaped ;  and  if  Page  had  not  been  a  man  of  power 
ful  frame,  he  could  not  have  saved  the  box  itself  from  the  hands 
of  the  rabble,  as  he  succeeded  in  doing.  After  depositing  the 
treasure  behind  Mr.  Cox's  counter,  he  missed  his  stick,  and  to 
recover  that  he  had  to  make  a  third  sortie,  in  the  course  of 
which  he  came  into  collision  with  Dr.  Pigwidgeon  himself, 
with  whom  he  had  a  furious  war  of  words,  ending  in  actual 
fisticuffs. 

Dr.  Page  charged  Dr.  Pigwidgeon  with  leading  a  band  of 
ruffians  and  marauders.  Dr.  Pigwidgeon  rejoined  with  the  ac 
cusation  of  open  and  shameless  corruption,  well  warranted,  cer 
tainly,  by  the  exposure  of  the  box  of  gold.  Page  demanded 
whether  the  election  was  to  he  carried  by  terror  and  intimidation. 
Pigwidgeon  retorted  by  asking  if  it  was  to  be  carried  by  barefaced 
bribery.  After  a  few  words  more,  Page  struck  the  other,  who 
instantly  returned  the  blow,  and  it  is  hard  to  say  how  long  the 
pugilistic  contest  might  have  lasted,  if  at  length  an  uproar  (much 
exceeding  any  that  had  yet  been  heard)  had  not  announced  the 
arrival  of  Mr.  Medlicott  himself. 

He  had  made  the  greater  part  of  the  journey  from  the  me 
tropolis  in  the  Triumph,  but  had  quitted  that  conveyance  at  an 
inn  about  ten  miles  from  Chichester,  where  an  open  carriage  with 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  343 

four  horses  had  been  ordered  by  the  Alderman  to  be  in  readiness 
for  him.  Mrs.  Mountjoy  would  have  been  one  of  the  party,  only 
that  she  dreaded  the  Bishop's  displeasure  ;  and  his  wife,  though 
she  came  down  to  the  country  with  him,  was  not  in  a  situation 
to  face  an  excited  mob,  so  that  he  would  have  wanted  a  lady  to 
grace  his  side,  if  he  had  not  fortunately  been  attended  by  Mrs. 
Chatterton,  who,  having  come  down  from  London  with  him,  was 
delighted  as  well  as  proud  to  exchange  the  du.st  and  obscurity  of 
a  stage-coach  for  the  comfort  and  distinction  of  the  seat  in  the 
four-in-hand.  As  in  addition  to  being  strikingly  handsome,  she 
was  all  energy  and  vivacity,  and  very  gaily  dressed,  her  substitu 
tion  for  simple  Mary  Medlicott  suited  the  occasion  extremely 
well.  The  mob  took  her  for  Reuben's  wife,  and  the  more  readily 
as  she  held  his  eldest  little  girl  on  her  lap,  and  looked  personally 
flattered  and  gratified  by  every  demonstration  of  popular  affec 
tion  and  respect.  To  his  parents  and  friends,  however,  the  ap 
pearance  of  a  strange  lady  in  his  company  caused  the  utmost 
surprise,  and  not  a  little  displeasure  mixed  with  it.  Neither  thft 
Vicar  nor  his  wife  recollected  Mademoiselle  Louise,  but  Mr?. 
Winning,  with  whom  she  had  formerly  lived  as  lady's  maid, 
recalled  her  features  as  soon  as  she  came  sufficiently  near,  and 
was  seriously  offended  with  Reuben  for  what  she  considered  a 
gross  violation  of  propriety  on  his  part,  which  indeed  it  was, 
though  it  was  his  vanity  more  than  his  gallantry  led  him  to 
commit  it. 

The  superior  pomp  and  circumstance  of  Mr.  Medlicott  s  entry, 
the  equestrian  display,  the  postillions  with  enormous  pink  cock 
ades,  his  rosy  children,  and  the  gay  lady  who  represented  their 
mother,  told  powerfully  in  his  favour,  as  Dr.  Page  had  anticipated. 
The  halt  upon  the  road,  too,  had  afforded  him  the  opportunity 
of  shaking  off  the  dust,  and  changing  his  travelling  dress  for  a 
fresh  suit,  in  which  he  now  shone  as  brilliant  as  a  bridegroom — 
a  complete  contrast  to  the  state  in  which  his  rival  presented  him 
self  to  the  public.  The  consequence  of  all  these  circumstances 
was,  that  the  uproar  was  redoubled.  The  shouts  for  "  Medlicott 
ind  Reform  !"  and  "  Medlicott,  the  World's  Friend  !"  became 
absolutely  stunning.  It  soon  became  evident  that  the  Pig- 
widgeonites  were  comparatively  a  small  faction  of  the  populace, 
and  Mr.  Cox,  seeing  the  apothecary  in  the  crowd,  beckoned  to 
him,  and  strongly  pointed  out  the  prudence  of  his  son  retiring 
into  his  inn,  and  suffering  his  opponent  and  his  friends  to  pro 
ceed  peaceably  to  the  Parrot,  which  was  their  head -quarters. 


344  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

Mr.  Broad  seconded  this  suggestion,  but  when  Mr.  Cox  offered  to 
engage  that  Reuben  should  not  address  the  mob  if  his  progress 
was  not  impeded,  the  cutler  flatly  refused  to  be  a  party  to  any 
such  stipulation  ;  and  the  hostile  candidates  being  now  within  a 
hundred  yards  of  each  other,  all  things  seemed  to  promise  ex 
tremely  fair  for  a  general  riot,  and  it  was  probably  a  shrewd  idea 
of  the  Vicar's  that  prevented  its  occurrence.  Mr.  Cox,  at  his  sug 
gestion,  made  his  way  through  the  rabble  to  Reuben's  carriage, 
and  getting  into  it,  commanded  the  postillions  to  advance.  A 
prodigious  shout  was  raised  by  the  multitude  as  the  order  was 
obeyed.  The  crowd  receded  on  both  sides  before  the  popular  old 
citizen  and  venerable  magistrate ;  they  respected  his  hoary  head 
as  if  it  had  been  literally  the  crown  to  which  a  sacred  writer 
beautifully  compares  such  a  head  as  his,  and  gave  way  to  the 
expression  of  his  will,  with  the  subrnissiveness  such  as  no  other 
man  in  Chichester  would  have  expected  or  could  have  enforced. 

The  progress  of  the  carriage  was  necessarily  slow,  but  so 
much  the  better  for  the  display  which  Reuben  and  his  friends 
were  desirous  to  make.  The  Triumph  and  some  other  vehicles 
followed,  and  formed  a  sort  of  procession.  They  met  with  no 
molestation  of  the  slightest  consequence ;  not  a  missile  was 
thrown  of  any  kind  ;  in  fact  anybody  who  had  been  rash  enough 
to  fling  an  egg  or  a  turnip-top  at  Mr.  Cox,  would  have  run  a 
serious  risk  of  being  torn  to  pieces  by  the  mob.  In  front  of  the 
tobacconist's  house,  the  only  clamour  audible  was  that  of  Reu 
ben's  own  partisans.  There  the  line  of  carriages  paused  for  a 
few  minutes,  and  the  waving  of  handkerchiefs  was  such  as  for 
some  time  to  prevent  Mr.  Medlicott  from  distinguishing  his  fair 
friends  in  the  windows.  The  uproar  was  deafening,  but  decidedly 
propitious. 

Mr.  Pigwidgeon,  still  on  the  same  perch,  was  entirely  put  out 
of  countenance  by  his  opponent's  success,  and  assumed  the  air  of 
a  man  too  gallant  and  high-minded,  to  assail  a  rival  who  had 
placed  himself  under  the  triple  protection  of  beauty,  infancy,  and 
old  age.  He  kept  bowing  ostentatiously,  now  to  Mr.  Cox,  now 
to  Mrs.  Chatterton,  who,  however,  had  pulled  down  her  veil,  to 
avoid  being  recognized  by  him.  -  In  doing  so  she  had  placed  the 
little  girl  in  the  old  man's  arms.  The  child  was  as  gay  and  fear 
less  as  if  it  had  been  "  born  to  the  manner"  of  a  contested  elec 
tion,  and  as  Matthew  held  it  aloft,  streaming  with  ribbons,  and 
not  unlike  a  banner,  the  effect  upon  the  spectators  was  astonish 
ing,  particularly  upon  the  female  portion  of  them.  Mr.  Cox  was 


OH,  THE   COMING  MAN.  345 

again  cheered  vociferously,  after  which  the  hurrahs  for  Mr.  Med- 
licott  were  renewed,  and  the  opportunity  seemed  a  fair  one  for 
making  a  short  speech.  Mr.  Cox  was  against  it,  but  yielded  on 
condition  that  the  speech  was  not  to  occupy  more  than  ten  mi 
nutes.  Reuben  sprang  upon  the  seat  of  the  carriage.  His 
reported  speech  was  probably  the  shortest  on  record.  It  con 
sisted  of  but  one  word,  which  was  "  Fellow-citizens."  The  Pig- 
widgeonites  were  influential  enough  to  prevent  another  syllable 
being  heard,  and  they  exerted  their  influence  most  successfully. 
In  fret  the  storm  was  rapidly  rising  again,  when  Mr.  Cox,  pre 
tending  that  the  time  was  expired,  made  a  sign  to  the  postillions 
to  move  forward  as  quickly  as  they  couM ;  and  in  something 
less  than  half  an  hour,  Mr.  Medlicott  arrived  at  the  Parrot,  where 
he  amply  compensated  both  himself  and  his  friends,  by  making 
a  speech  which  lasted  until  the  sun  went  down,  and  would  have 
lasted  until  the  moon  rose,  if  his  own  father  had  not  put  a  slip 
'of  paper  in  his  hand,  adjuring  him,  by  all  the  ties  of  affection 
and  duty,  to  recollect  that  the  custom  of  dining  had  not  yet  been 
laid  aside  at  Underwood. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A   CHAPTER   OF  OUTRAGES   ON   ALL   BIDES. 

MR.  MEDLICOTT  offended  all  his  discreet  friends,  by  making  his 
public  entry  as  he  did,  in  company  with  a  lady  in  Madame 
Beauvoisin's  position,  which,  though  not  disreputable,  was  cer 
tainly  ambiguous.  Mrs.  Winning  ceased,  in  consequence,  to 
take  an  active  interest  in  his  success.  The  good  little  parson, 
however,  relented  only  too  soon,  upon  his  son's  assurance  that 
Louise  was  not  only  a  married  woman,  but  the  correctest,  as  she 
was  the  cleverest,  of  her  sex ;  and  being  satisfied  upon  this, 
which  was  the  main  point,  he  accosted  the  lady  in  his  most  cor 
dial  manner,  and  offered  her  both  a  dinner  and  a  bed  that  night 
at  the  Vicarage.  Mrs.  Medlicott  looked  daggers  at  him ;  but 
having  a  kindly  feeling  for  the  pretty  Frenchwoman  au  fond, 
from  recollection  of  her  service  in  former  days,  she  too  laid  by 
her  scruples  before  long,  though  she  seconded  but  coldly  her 
husband's  invitations.  Madame,  however,  was  so  uneasy  about 

15* 


846  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

her  brother,  that  she  did  not  know  whether  to  accept  or  refuse ; 
and  Reuben,  also,  was  at  a  loss  to  think  what  had  become  of 
Adolphe,  who  had  come  down,  he  knew,  from  London  in  the 
same  coach  with  himself. 

"If  it  is  a  Frenchman  you  are  all  looking  for,"  said  Mr. 
Cox,  "  I  think  I  can  accommodate  you  ;  for  I  have  got  a  gen 
tleman  of  that  country  safe  under  lock  and  key  below  in  my 
office." 

"My  poor  Adolphe  a  prisoner!"  cried  Reuben  with  surprise; 
"  Pray,  worthy  Magistrate,  for  what  crime  has  he  forfeited  his 
freedom  !" 

"  Oh,  he  is  innocent :  he  is  innocent !"  cried  his  sister,  spring 
ing  forward,  and  astonishing  the  old  man  by  falling  on  her 
knees  at  his  feet,  and  raising  her  clasped  hands  in  the  theatrical 
manner  of  imploring  mercy. 

"  Be  comforted,  Madame,"  said  Mr.  Cox,  smiling,  and  cour 
teously  raising  her  ;  "  we  only  locked  the  gentleman  up  for  his 
own  protection ;  there  is  no  charge  against  him,  and  he  shall  be 
released  this  moment." 

"  You  will  give  him  his  liberty,"  said  the  Vicar,  "  and  I  will 
give  him  his  dinner : — liberty,  and  a  dinner — two  of  the  best 
gifts  that  man  can  bestow  upon  his  fellow." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Reuben  in  his  father's  ear;  "and  the 
more  as  my  friend  in  duresse  has  every  talent  in  the  world  ex 
cept  that  of  providing  a  dinner  for  himself." 

"  What  is  he  ?"  asked  the  Vicar. 

'•  What  is  he  not,  sir  !"  replied  Reuben  in  the  same  under 
tone  ;  "  he  was  first  my  shoemaker ;  then  my  music  teacher ; 
next  my  bookseller ;  after  that  my  cigar-merchant ;  upw  he  is — 
I  really  hardly  know  what." 

"  Your  gentleman  at  large,"  said  the  Vicar ;  for  Mr.  Cox 
having  liberated  M.  Bea/uvoisin,  returned  with  him  just  at  that 
moment,  and  then  there  was  another  impassioned  scene  between 
brother  and  sister,  as  if  the  former  had  been  released  from  ac 
tual  chains  and  a  dungeon. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  they  were  both  charmed  at 
finding  themselves  comfortably  provided  for  at  the  Vicarage, 
instead  of  paying  for  very  inferior  entertainment  at  an  hotel. 
They  found  their  quarters,  indeed,  so  agreeable,  that  they  show 
ed  no  inclination  to  change  them  during  the  ferment ;  and  being 
grateful  for  the  father's  hospitality,  as  well  as  sincerely  anxious 
for  the  son's  success,  they  made  themselves  useful  while  they 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  347 

remained,  Louise  by  making  a  variety  of  tasteful  banners  and 
flags,  Adolphe  by  a  number  of  little  attentions  and  activities, 
which  kept  him  busy  from  morning  till  night.  Adolphe,  in 
deed,  as  it  soon  turned  out,  was  a  great  deal  too  energetic ;  and 
so  was  Dr.  Page,  from  whom  a  sounder  discretion  might  have 
been  expected.  The  latter,  instead  of  returning  quietly  to  his 
sober  bottle  of  port  at  Underwood,  lingered  in  town  by  way  of 
transacting  electioneering  business ;  and  before  the  evening  was 
over,  having  most  probably  exceeded  that  temperate  allowance, 
got  into  a  fresh  personal  conflict  with  Mr.  Pigwidgeon,  which 
ended  in  their  both  being  bound  over  by  Mr.  Cox  to  keep  the 
peace,  not  only  towards  each  other,  but  all  the  rest  of  his 
Majesty's  subjects.  Dr.  Pigwidgeon  made  no  objection  to  enter 
into  these  recognisances,  but  Page  vehemently  remonstrated,  and 
begged  with  amusing  earnestness  to  have  his  obligations  limited 
to  his  particular  antagonist,  being  anxious  (though  he  did  not 
own  it  at  the  time)  to  keep  himself  free  to  redeem  the  engage 
ments  he  had  entered  into  in  the  morning,  with  the  apothecary 
and  Mr.  Griffin.  Mr.  Cox,  however,  was  inexorable ;  and  the 
two  doctors  were  manacled  together  in  a  figurative  way,  as 
tight  as  the  law  could  bind  them. 

"  By  Jove !"  said  Page  to  the  old  magistrate,  when  the  coast 
was  clear,  "  you  little  know  the  mischief  you  have  done  by  your 
untimely  interference.  You  may  be  a  justice  of  the  peace,  but 
you  have  served  the  interests  of  peace  better  than  those  of  jus 
tice.  I  heartily  wish  I  had  paid  those  libellous  scoundrels  in 
ready  money,  instead  of  passing  my  note  to  them  for  a  thrash 
ing." 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Reynard,  taking  him  by  the  arm  ;  "  if 
they  abuse  us,  we'll  abuse  them ;  that's  my  system,  and  I  know 
'  something  about  conducting  a  contested  election." 

Reynard  had  brought  down  a  little  corps  of  libellers  with  him, 
quite  as  expert  and  unscrupulous  in  that  respectable  line  of 
business ;  and  it  was  not  without  the  greatest  difficulty  that  Mr. 
Medlicott  (who  had  no  taste  for  such  tactics)  succeeded  m  pre 
venting  his  partisans  from  retaliating  upon  the  other  party  with 
Ihe  same  abominable  system  of  warfare,  calumny  for  calumny, 
and  lie  for  He.  Mr.  Pigwidgeon,  however,  met  with  contumely 
enough  in  all  conscience  ;  in  fact,  he  was  abused  and  dispar 
aged  by  Mr.  Medlicott's  friends  more  than  was  consistent 
with  a  prudent  regard  to  their  own  interests.  Running  a  man 
down  unjustly  or  excessively  is  a  certain  way  to  give  him  a  lift 


348  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

in  the  general  estimation.  He  rises  in  opinion  much  as  a  ball 
does,  which,  by  rolling  down  one  inclined  plane,  acquires  a  mo 
mentum  that  carries  it  to  some  extent  up  another.  So  it  was 
with  Mr.  Pigwidgeon.  He  was  nothing,  in  fact,  but  an  empty, 
vapouring  blockhead,  not  for  a  moment  to  be  compared  to  his 
educated  and  accomplished  opponent  (allowing  for  all  Mr.  Med- 
licott's  faults  and  deficiencies) ;  but  Pigwidgeon  was  set  up  a 
little  by  the  violence  with  which  he  was  decried ;  and  Reuben 
himself  felt  this  so  much,  that  whenever  he  mentioned  Mr.  Pig- 
widgeon,  he  carefully  refrained  from  adopting  the  tone  which  his 
party  generally  employed  in  speaking  of  him. 

And  here  let  us  do  Mr.  Medlicott  the  justice  and  the  honour 
of  saying,  that  one  admirable  and  remarkable  quality  distin 
guished  him  as  a  public  speaker :  he  never  loved  to  indulge  in 
coarse  or  scurrilous  language  ;  his  diction  was  generally  refined 
and  gentlemanlike,  more  tending  to  the  extreme  of  too  much 
delicacy,  than  too  much  force.  His  flowers  of  speech,  as  he 
would  have  expressed  it  himself,  were  often  exotics,  but  they  were 
never  unsavoury  weeds.  From  Billingsgate  he  shrunk  with  in 
stinctive  horror.  When  he  assailed  an  adversary,  it  was  not 
with  the  mire  from  the  pool,  but  the  shining  pebble  from  the 
brook ;  much  the  most  effective,  as  well  as  the  most  creditable, 
mode  of  levelling  either  a  dwarf  or  a  giant. 

On  the  part  of  the  Magpies,  however,  there  was  no  restraint 
of  either  tongue  or  pen.  Dr.  Page's  anticipations  were  perfectly 
correct.  The  fear  of  his  cudgel  being  removed  from  the  eyes  of 
the  slanderers,  not  only  was  the  retractation  dictated  by  Page 
flung  into  the  fire,  but  the  assault  was  renewed  and  continued, 
with  the  most  malignant  aggravations  and  embellishments,  to 
the  end  of  the  contest.  Upon  one  occasion  only  was  personal 
retribution  exacted.  Though  the  apothecary  escaped  the  cud 
gel,  he  was  not  so  fortunate  as  to  elude  another  corrector  of  the 
press,  in  the  still  more  irregular  shape  of  an  umbrella.  A  crowd 
of  Reuben's  friends  were  standing  one  morning  at  an  open  win 
dow  in  the  Parrot,  reading  the  last  and  most  scandalous  produc 
tion  of  the  enemy,  containing  the  broadest  and  vilest  allusions  to 
the  Beauvoisins,  and  their  domestic  relations  with  Mr.  Medlicott. 

"  It  ought  to  be  calmly  answered,"  said  Mr.  Cox. 

"And  rigorously  prosecuted,"  added  somebody  else. 

"  Answered  and  prosecuted  !"  cried  the  Doctor ;  "  there  is 
only  one  way  of  prosecuting  an  article  like  that ;  if  my  hands 
were  not  tied,  I  know  the  answer  it  would  receive  from  me. 


•OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  349 

This  comes  of  binding  a  man  over  to  keep  the  peace  towards  all 
the  rascals  in  England,  at  a  great  constitutional  crisis  like  this. 
I'll  never  forgive  you  for  it,  Mr.  Cox." 

Mr.  Broad  and  the  Frenchman  (the  latter  very  naturally) 
were  also  among  the  indignants  ;  the  latter  venting  his  wrath  with 
all  the  grotesque  action  and  in  all  the  odd  imprecations  of  his 
country.  Presently  some  one  near  a  window  called  out — "  There 
goes  the  scoundrel  himself,  the  leader  of  the  gang !"  The  apo 
thecary  was  sneaking  past  the  Parrot  on  his  way  to  his  son's 
committee  at  the  Magpie.  Everybody  ran  to  the  window  to  1  iss 
and  groan  him  ;  but  the  Frenchman  (after  a  single  look  to  make 
certain  of  Mr.  Pigwidgeon's  person)  rushed  down  stairs,  out  into 
the  street,  shouting  that  he  was  not  bound  to  keep  de  peace 
towards  Monsieur  Pigviggin,"  and  the  next  moment  was  seen 
banging  the  unfortunate  apothecary  about  the  head,  and  every 
where  else,  with  his  umbrella,  kicking  him  at  the  same  time  in 
the  most  ignominious  manner  ;  and  in  return  to  all  demands  on 
the  part  of  the  kickee  to  know  the  reason  for  such  outrage, 
simply  replying,  "  You  are  Pigviggin,  dat  is  de  reason  !  you  are 
Pigviggin,  dat  is  reason  enough,  sare !"  still  banging  him  until 
the  umbrella  almost  went  to  pieces,  and  the  bystanders  at  length 
interposed  on  behalf  of  order  and  humanity. 

"  Seize  him  and  hold  him  !"  shouted  Mr.  Cox,  hastening  to 
arrest  the  assailant,  and  calling  on  the  Aldermen  to  support 
him  ;  but  the  mob  in  the  neigbourhood  of  the  Parrot,  encouraged 
by  the  cheers  of  Dr.  Page  and  others  from  the  window,  were 
only  too  ready  to  take  the  part  of  the  foreigner  on  an  occasion 
of  this  kind  ;  so  that  before  the  magistrate  could  reach  the  scene 
of  action,  the  perpetrator  of  the  outrage  had  got  clean  off.  The 
apothecary  was  sadly  bemauled,  and  slunk  away  to  the  Magpie 
to  stimulate  his  friends  to  revenge  his  affronts,  which,  in  the 
finest  spirit  of  even-handed  justice,  they  did  in  the  course  of  the 
day,  by  bemauling  an  apothecary  of  the  Reubenite  party,  a 
most  inoffensive  man,  who  took  no  active  part  in  the  contest, 
and  had  never  molested  anybody  in  his  life. 

With  this  exception,  Mr.  Medlicott  succeeded  in  keeping  not 
only  the  pens,  but  the  hands  of  his  friends  tolerably  quiet, 
wishing  to  owe  his  return  to  moral  superiority  alone.  It  was 
not,  however,  so  easy  to  prevent  unlawful  pracflces  of  another 
kind.  Perhaps  no  man  ever  set  his  affections  upon  a  seat  in  the 
House  of  Commons  with  a  stronger  aversion  to  every  profligate 
art  by  which  that  distinguished  and  desirable  object  is  too  fre- 


850  THE    UNIVERSAL    JENIUS  | 

quently  obtained,  or  a  sincerer  desire  to  win  it  by  honourable 
means  only.  He  was  certainly  an  exception  to  the  general  rule ; 
and  though,  he  knew  there  existed  such  iniquitous  dens  as 
Guinea  Lane  and  Yellow  Row,  he  had  no  more  notion  of  the 
deeds  that  were  done  upon  his  behalf  in  the  former  of  those  .dark 
corners,  than  he  had  of  the  transactions  in  the  Georgium  Sidus. 
Perhaps  he  ought  to  have  watched  the  proceedings  of  his 
friends  more  narrowly  ;  but  a  man  cannot  have  the  aid  of  friends 
without  implicitly  confiding  in  them  ;  and  besides,  his  opponents, 
and  not  his  supporters,  were  surely  the  proper  objects  of  his  suspi 
cion.  As  to  his  own  committee,  nothing  but  honour  and  probity 
was  ever  talked  of  there — when  he  was  present.  The  house  in 
Guinea  Lane  was  treated  as  an  audacious  fiction  of  the  enemy, 
though  nobody  entertained  a  shadow  of  a  doubt  of  the  reality  of 
the  rival  establishment  in  Yellow  Row.  When  Mr.  Medlicott 
repeated,  as  he  did  every  hour  in  the  day,  that  he  stood  for  the 
city  only  on  the  three  conditions  of  there  being  no  bribery,  no 
intimidation,  and  no  treating,  he  was  always  lustily  cheered,  and 
by  none  so  loud  as  by  his  attorney,  who  had  organized  as  perfect 
a  system  of  corruption  in  all  its  branches,  as  ever  was  recorded 
in  a  blue  book.  Not  even  Mr.  Broad  and  Dr.  Page  were  cog 
nizant  of  all  the  lengths  to  which  Reynard  went ;  but  as  to  Mr. 
Medlicott,  he  was  completely  blinded  by  being  led  round  the 
town  to  canvass,  in  due  form,  the  identical  knaves  who  had  their 
bribes  already  in  their  pockets,  for  this  was  a  ceremony  with 
which  that  astute  and  experienced  agent  never  dispensed.  As 
to  the  treating,  it  was  going  on  merrily  all  the  time  in  at  least 
twenty  public-houses  and  places  of  entertainment,  but  nowhere 
so  profusely  as  at  the  Parrot,  under  Mr.  Medlicott's  very  nose ; 
which  naturally  made  many  think  that  he  must  have  had  a  cold 
during  the  contest^  as  he  never  smelt  the  roast  beef  or  the  gin, 
though  the  former*  was  turning  on  a  dozen  spits,  and  the  latter 
flowing  in  rivers  and  torretts. 

The  worst  of  all  this  was,  that  in  truth  it  was  a  superfluity 
of  naughtiness.  It  was  a  waste  of  that  commodity  which  Mr. 
Jonathan  Wild,  in  his  philosophy  of  knavery,  considered  too  good 
a  thing  to  be  thrown  away — a  waste  of  roguery  and  mischief. 
The  Parrots  greatly  over-estimated  the  strength  and  resources  of 
the  Magpies,  who,  having  little  or  nothing  but  bribery  to  depend 
on,  and  not  so  much  cash  in  their  bank  as  their  opponents,  had 
already  renounced  all  hopes  of  succais,  and  only  kept  their  can 
didate  in  the  field  to  haras*  and  worr)  Mr.  Medlicott  and  enhance 


REUBEN  MEDLICOTT;  351 

the  market-price  of  votes.  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  himself  acted  very  dis 
creetly  ;  he  freely  and  handsomely  expended  Mr.  Barsac's  money, 
but  took  heed  not  to  encroach  on  his  own  funds,  so  as  to  have 
the  fair  borough  of  Blarney  always  to  fall  back  upon  in  the  last 
resort.  In  fact,  before  the  election  took  place,  all  doubt  as  to 
Mr.  Medlicott's  return  was  at  an  end.  All  that  remained  was  to 
go  through  the  riotous  farce  at  the  hustings,  the  usual  dumb-show 
of  addressing  the  electors,  the  perils  of  .chairing,  and  the  dangers 
of  the  dinner. 


CHAPTER  Xin. 

A  POLITICAL  VIOTOEY   FOLLOWED   BY   A   DOMESTIC  TKITJMPH. 

THE  election  was  a  cross  between  a  farce  and  a  riot ;  it  is  scarcely 
possible  to  describe  it  more  accurately.  Fortunately,  however, 
Mr.  Pigwidgeon  was  not  able  to  keep  the  poll  open  for  more 
than  a  single  day,  so  that  the  scene  of  hubbub  and  folly  proved 
a  short  one.  The  candidates  were  proposed  and  seconded  in 
dumb-show.  A  forest  of  hands  were  raised  for  Mr.  Medlicott, 
but  a  considerable  grove  also  were  displayed  in  Dr.  Pigwidgeon'a 
favour.  Which  were  the  dirtier  was  very  uncertain ;  and  the 
same  doubt  existed  as  to  the  comparative  sweetness  of  the  voices 
that  shouted  for  the  rival  interests.  Ufa  other  voices,  ol'  course, 
were  audible,  not  even  those  of  the  candidates,  except  a  few 
words  at  intervals,  through  the  enormous  tumult  of  the  day. 
Mr.  Pigwidgeon  addressed  the  electors  first,  amidst  terrific  cries 
of  "  No  Pigwidgeons  !"  "  Go  back  to  Blarney  !"  "  No  quacks  !" 
"  Who  sent  for  you  ?"  "  You  are  oply  fit  for  Ireland  !"  "  You 
shaVt  doctor  us  !"  "  He  is  only  an  apothecary's  boy  ;  go  back  to 
the  mortar !"  One  of  the  Parrots,  a  fellow  of  stentorian  lungs, 
proposed  a  groan  for  the  apothecary. 

"  I  am  not  ashamed  of  my  father !" — roared  the  orator, 
directly  the  groaning  ceased. 

"  More  shame  for  you !"  cried  a  free-born  British  cobbler  in 
his  green  apron,  standing  at  the  speaker's  elbow. 

"  I  will  say  this  for  my  father," — continued  the  candidate. 

"  The  less  you  say  about  him  the  better !"  re-bellowed  the 
cobbler. 


852  THE    UNIVERSAL    GEXIDS  ; 

"  Say  something  for  yourself!"  bawled  another,  who  looked 
very  like  a  tinker. 

"Hear  me,  then  !"  cried  the  doctor. 

"  No,  we  won't !"  from  the  tinker,  who  had  just  before  ad 
jured  him  to  speak. 

"  Hear  Pigwidgeon !" 

"  Hear  Medlicott !"  % 

.  "  A  bas,  Pigviggin  !" 

A  rush  was  made  at  the  Frenchman  by  a  flight  of  the  Mag 
pies,  but  a  flock  of  the  Parrots  came  to  his  aid,  and  there  was  a 
wild  engagement  for  some  minutes,  during  whicn  the  umbrella 
again  did  conspicuous  duty  on  the  side  of  the  Reubenites. 
When  the  fray  was  over,  Mr.  Pigwidgeon  attempted  once  more 
Co  get  a  hearing.  At  the  same  moment,  the  restless  Adolphe, 
assisted  by  Mr.  Broad's  foreman,  displayed  a  blue  silk  banner  of 
enormous  size,  upon  which  the  fingers  of  Louise  had  embroidered, 
in  huge  scarlet  letters,  the  words — 

"Hurrah  for  Medlicott,  the  World's  Friend!" 

Scarcely  was  it  unfolded  before  it  was  torn  to  a,  hundred 
Bhreds  by  the  excited  Magpies  ;  but  another  flag  was  in  readiness, 
inscribed — 

"  Medlicott,  and  Universal  Sympathy  !" 

"  Universal  humbug  !"  screamed  a  dozen  Pigwidgeonites ; 
and  the  second  flag  met  the  fate  of  the  first,  after  a  somewhat 
longer  scramble,  during  which  some  heads  were  broken,  if  any 
faith  was  to  be  placed  in  sounds. 

The  orator  made  a  final  effort  after  this  last  episode,  and  was 
proceeding  to  tell  the  constituency  what  good  things  he  would 
give  them  in  return  for  their  votes.  If  they  liked  cheap  bread, 
he  was  the  man  to  provide  it  for  them.  If  they  liked  cheap 
ugar,  he  would  give  it  to  them  also.  If  they  fancied  cheap 
tea  and  coffee — " 

"  Perhaps  you  would  fancy  a  cheap  egg,''  cried  a  fellow, 
lying  in  ambush  in  a  corner  with  a  basket  of  them,  and  flinging, 
as  he  spoke,  one  of  those  highly  constitutional  missiles  with  aim 
so  fair  that  it  struck  the  candidate  right  on  his  breast,  and  in 
stantly  delivering  its  liquid  contents,  provided  him  with  a  buff 
waistcoat,  to  the  infinite  satisfaction  of  the  Parrots,  and  the 
amusement  of  not  a  few  of  the  Magpies  themselves.  But  this 
was  a  game  at  which  two  parties  could  play.  There  was  an  op 
position  egg-store  in  another  corner  of  the  court-house.  A  battle 
of  eggs  ensued.  Eggs  flew  like  the  fowl  they  were  designed  by 


OR,  THE    JOMING  MAN.  353 

nature  to  bring  into  the  world,  unless  we  suppose  that  the  uses 
of  a  contested  election  were  among  those  which  Providence  ex 
pressly  contemplated  in  ordaining  the  generation  of  birds.  Eggs 
darkened  the  air.  Eggs  flew  like  shot  in  a  battle,  or  rather  like 
shells,  only  that  they  were  not  charged  with  such  deadly  ingre 
dients.  Sometimes  in  the  tug  of  war  a  Magpie's  egg  met  a  Par 
rot's  egg,  and  the  momentum  of  each  being  instantly  destroyed  by 
the  other,  the  unite'd  yolks  and  albumens  fell,  in  a  torrent  of  whits 
and  yellow,  upon  the  head  of  some  unlucky  pot-walloper  in  the 
crowd.  Several  burgesses  looked  as  if  they  had  bay  wigs  ;  others 
as  if  their  hats  had  fallen  into  basins  of  batter  for  pancakes.  Some 
more  unfortunate  wights  received  the  discharge  in  a  more  direct 
and  unpleasant  fashion ;  indeed,  on  all  parts  of  their  persons, 
even  their  noses  and  mouths,  which  disgusted  them  beyond 
measure  with  such  practical  joking,  and  made  them  perceive,  in  a 
twinkling,  how  grossly  indecent  pranks  of  the  kind  were  on  the 
solemn  occasion  of  an  election.  It  was  well  for  Reuben  that  the 
storm  of  eggs  was  subsided,  and  the  elements  of  it  spent,  before 
his  turn  came  to  take  his  place  in  front  of,  the  hustings.  But  if 
he  was  not  so  bespattered  with  one  kind  of  nastiness  as  his  oppo 
nent,  he  got  even  more  of  another.  He  was  assailed  with  a  thou 
sand  opprobrious  imputations,  supplied  by  Mr.  Griffin's  articles, 

"  Who  burned  his  grandfather's  house  ?" 

"  Are  you  a  parson,  or  a  lawyer  ?     What  are  you  ?" 

"  He's  a  Quaker, — you  won't  do  for  us,  friend  Reuben  I" 

«  He's  a  Jack-of-all-trades  !" 

"  What  are  you  now,  Mr.  Medlicott  ?" 

"  Play  us  a  tune  on  the  fiddle  !" 

"  Who  ran  away  with  his  grandmother  ?" 

"  Have  you  her  love-letters  about  you  ?" 

"  Gentlemen  ! " — cried  Reuben  imploringly,  "  one  word- 
hear  me  speak — " 

"  That's  all  you  can  do  :  it's  not  speeches  we  want  1" 

'  One  word,  in  common  justice." — 

'  No  Parrots  for  us  !"  shouted  the  political  tinker. 

'  Xo  Magpies  t"  roared  the  free-born  cobbler. 

4  Gentlemen  !  if  you  send  me  into  the  House" — 

'  But  we  won't  !" 

'  Yes  we  will !  we  will !  Three  cheers  for  Mr.  MedlicotL 
Mr.  Medlicott,  the  friend  of  the  world  ! "  vociferated  Dr.  Page, 
with  a  voice  that  put  all  ether  voices  down,  and  triumphed,  for  a 
moment,  completely  over  the  general  din. 


354  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

Reuben  now  thought  I  is  time  was  come  for  a  hearing,  but  in 
vain  ;  for  the  other  party  roust  cheer  their  candidate  also,  and  in 
cheering  him  they  displayed  a  banner  with  the  motto,  "  Pig- 
widgeon,  and  Purity  of  Election  !"  which  so  exasperated  the 
Medlicott  faction  that  they  made  a  furious  onset  to  get  possession 
of  the  flag ;  stones  were  flung  on  both  sides,  and  a  fray  com 
menced  which  soon  became  so  serious  that  a  body  of  special 
constables  were  hastily  sworn  in,  and  the  court-house  was  cleared 
by  order  of  the  magistrates. 

Mr.  Medlicott  was  so  well  surrounded  and  stoutly  guarded, 
by  a  troop  of  his  friends,  that  he  suffered  little  more  in  the  tu 
mult  than  the  loss  of  his  bouquet  and  the  derangement  of  his 
hair  ;  but  Mr.  Broad  had  his  coat  torn  to  ribbons ;  Dr.  Page 
was  reduced  literally  to  rags ;  and*  poor  Mr.  Beauvoisin  was 
nearly  in  the  same  condition,  besides  losing  his  umbrella,  which 
had  performed  such  exploits.  Upon  the  other  side,  Mr.  Pigwid- 
geon  thought  himself  well  off  to  escape  with  a  black  eye  ;  while 
as  to  his  immediate  satellites,  there  was  scarcely  a  whole  coat,  or 
an  integral  pair  of  inexpressibles,  among  them  all. 

In  this  condition  of  affairs  the  candidates  went  to  the  poll, 
the  result  of  which  has  been  already  intimated.  Mr.  Pigwidgeon 
had  scarcely  fifty  votes,  after  all  his  expenditure  of  breath  and 
money.  He  pretended,  of  course,  that  the  electors  who  had  pro 
mised  him  were  either  corrupted  or  intimidated  by  Mr.  Medli 
cott  ;  and  formally  protesting  against  all  the  proceedings,  made 
a  precipitate  and  prudent  retreat  from  the  town. 

His  disappearance  restored  comparative  peace  and  order  ;  his 
party,  wanting  a  leader,  shrunk  into  instant  insignificance  ;  they 
geemed  even  to  have  lost  the  power  of  shouting,  for  when  Mr. 
Medlicott,  reaching  the  goal  of  his  ambition,  was  declared  by  the 
Sheriff  the  successful  candidate,  and  one  of  the  sitting  members 
for  Chichester,  the  speech  which  he  made  to  return  thanks  was 
not  only  patiently  heard,  but  enthusiastically  received  and  ap 
plauded  by  an  immense  concourse  of  the  citizens. 

So  tranquil  was  the  meeting,  that  his  mother,  wife,  and 
mother-in-law,  accompanied  by  the  radiant  Madame  Beauvoisin, 
were  conducted  by  Mr.  Cox  to  the  self-same  seats  in  the  gallery 
of  the  court-house  which  they  had  occupied  many  years  before 
to  witness  Reuben's  first  oratorical  display.  There  was  not  a 
more  joyful  mother  in  England  at  that  instant  than  the  elder 
Mrs.  Medlicott.  She  recollected  in  this  hour  of  justifiable  exul 
tation  the  flattering  parallel  which  Mr.  Primrose  had  once  drawn 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  355 

between  herself  and  a  celebrated  Roman  mother ;  and  though 
there  was  nothing  particularly  pathetic  in  any  part  of  the  speech 
which  her  son  made  upon  that  occasion,  it  nevertheless  brought 
tears  into  the  eyes  of  our  English  Cornelia ;  nor  were  hers  the 
only  moist  ones  of  the  party ;  it  was  observable  that  Reuben's 
tender  and  teeming  little  wife  pulled  down  her  veil  more  than 
once  while  he  was  speaking,  probably  moved  by  similar  feelings 
of  pride  and  rapture,  and  atfected  in  the  same  natural  manner. 

But  the  blisses  and  triumphs  of  the  matrons,  great  as  they 
were,  were  destined  to  be  still  greater  in  the  course  of  that  me 
morable  evening.  Not  many  hours  elapsed  after  the  chairing 
(which  was  a  peaceful,  though  a  noisy  ceremony),  before  Mary 
Medlicott  made  the  heart  of  every  human  being  under  the  Vicar's 
roof,  and  many  a  heart  under  other  roofs  besides,  tingle  and  leap 
with  joy,  by  selecting  that  auspicious  day  to  bring  a  son  into  the 
world.  The  church  bells  had  scarcely  done  ringing  for  Reuben's 
political  victory,  when  they  were  set  agoing  again  in  acknow 
ledgment  of  his  domestic  achievements. 

"  Sure  such  a  day  as  this  was  never  seen,"  said  the  benevolent 
and  jolly  Mr.  Oldport,  who  made  all  the  haste  in  his  power,  con 
sidering  his  corns  and  his  corpulency,  to  congratulate  his  friend 
upon  the  accumulation  of  blessings  in  his  family. 

"  This  day,  Oh  !  Mr.  Doodle,  is  a  day  indeed,"  replied  the 
Vicar ;  "  let  us  have  a  magnum  of  my  oldest  port  to  celebrate 
it.  Come,  Mr.  Cox,  come,  Doctor,  come  all  our  sympathising 
friends ;  and  you,  Reuben,  lay  aside  your  senatorial  dignity,  and 
set  the  round  table  and  glasses  under  the  walnut-tree.  Your 
mother  shall  bring  us  the  new  citizen  of  Chichester,  and  we  will 
drink  his  health  and  safe  arrival  in  a  bumper." 

Mrs.  Medlicott,  as  usual,  appeared  the  moment  she  was  talked 
of,  carrying  in  her  arms  the  illustrious  little  stranger,  of  whom 
she  was  as  vain  as  if  she  had  borne  him  herself,  and  in  whose 
forehead  she  had  already  discovered  all  the  protuberances  indica 
tive  of  the  most  brilliant  talents. 

The  child  was  enthusiastically  admired,  and  his  father  was 
overwhelmed  with  applause. 

The  Canon  held  his  glass  so  awkwardly  while  he  contem 
plated  the  infant  prodigy,  that  some  drops  of  the  rosy  liquor 
overflowed  and  fell  on  the  child's  face. 

"  A  jolly  christening,"  said  Mr.  Cox  to  Reuben,  "  your  son, 
sir,  is  baptised  with  port."  There  was  great  laughing  at  the 
incident. 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  357 


BOOK  THE  NINTH.. 


"Now,  the  melancholy  god  protest  thee;  and  the  tailor  make  thy  doublet  of -parti 
coloured  taffeta,  for  thy  mind  is  a  very  opaL  I  would  have  men  of  such  constancy  put 
to  sea,  that  their  business  might  be  everything,  and  their  intent  everywhere;  for  that's 
it  that  makes  a  good  voyage  of  nothing." — Twelfth  NiqM. 


ARGUMENT. 

"  The  fancy  the  vulgar  have  for  men  of  showy  abilities,  whose  spark 
ling  often  proceeds  from  the  intrinsic  shallowness  of  their  parts,  is  not  un 
like  the  taste  which  may  be  observed  to  prevail  of  a  shining  night  among  the 
spectators  of  the  heavens  lor  dancing  meteors,  shooting  stars,  and  all 
sorts  of  flickering  vapoury  splendours,  while  the  great  and  permanent  fea 
tures  of  the  firmament  shine  unnoticed, — neither  honoured  for  their  gran 
deur  nor  admired  for  their  beauty.  You  shall  find  the  superb  planets  the 
true  and  old-established  nobility  of  the  sky — mighty  Saturn,  with  his 
wondrous  rings;  belted  Jove,  with  his  brilliant  staff  of  satellites;  love 
liest  Venus,  sister  to  the  Moon,  with  the  warrior  Mars,  in  his  brazen  pano 
ply  : — you  shall  find  them  all  slighted  and  overlooked,  while  the  herd  of 
star-gazers  are  intent  upon  some  skipping  exhalation,  or  some  parvenu  of 
a  comet  with  the  beard  of  a  Jew,  or  the  tail  of  a  baboon.  The  vulgar 
notion  of  genius  is  something  meteoric,  and,  above  all  things,  vagrant  in 
its  habits, — sparkling,  rather  than  shining, — shooting  in  all  directions, 
rather  than  advancing  in  any, — more  of  a  squib  than  a  star,  or,  at  most,  a 
star  without  a  pole  or  an  orbit 

"  Such  are  the  luminaries  the  multitude  gaze  at,  and  applaud,  while 
the  genuine  lights  of  the  world — condescending  to  have  spheres,  and  to 
keep  them,  and  pursuing  their  respective  paths,  whether  of  high  studies 
or  serious  duties — are  neglected  for  the  very  fixity  of  their  purposes  and 
steadiness  of  their  flame.  In  fact,  there  is  no  such  plodder  as  talent  of 
the  high  ?r  order ;  no  drudge  like  genius,  whether  it  works  in  the  mines  of 
truth,  to  extend  the  boundaries  of  science ;  labours  with  the  soldier  in 
the  field,  to  protect  the  frontiers  of  the  kingdom  ;  or  toils  in  the  cabinet 
or  the  senate,  in  the  still  more  arduous  cares  of  legislation  and  govern 
ment. 

"  True  ambition,  inseparable  from  great  powers,  is  content  with 
magnificent  results,  and  never  impatient  with  the  homely  and  undistin 
guished  steps  that  lead  to  them.  The  quality  of  patience  enters  largely 


358  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

into  the  idea  of  genius.  The  man  of  genius  imitates  the  operations  of 
nature,  which  are  not  granclei  in  their  issues  than  slow,  and  generally 
minute,  in  their  processes.  Perseverance  nut  only  '  keeps  honour  bright,' 
but  is  an  essential  qualification  for  the  winning  of  the  brightest  honours ; 
Ambition  has  this  in  common  with  his  illegitimate  brother  Avarice ;  the 
former,  like  the  latter,  prospers  in  hi*  designs  more  frequently  by  grad 
ual  increments  and  advances,  than  by  sudden  enterprises  and  surprising 
strokes.  More  men  reach  the  summits  of  the  world  by  climbing  than  by 
flying.  It  is  possible,  even,  to  creep  into  renown.  Ara  lonya,  as  Hip 
pocrates  laid  it  down — Hippocrates,  whose  life  my  friend  Primrose  has 
not  yet  had  time  to  write.  The  gate  of  the  Temple  of  Fame  turns  upon 
two  hinges — Virtue  and  labour.  The  wise  poet  put  this  lesson  into 
the  mouth  of  his  wise  as  well  as  pious  hero — 

" '  Disce  puer  virtutem  ex  me,  verumque  laborem." 
"  lulus  had  a  eager  father  than  Icarus. 

"'Why,  what  a  peevish  fool  was  he  of  Crete, 
That  taught  his  son  the  office  of  a  fowl, 
And  yet,  for  all  his  wings,  the  fowl  was  drowned.' 

"  But  in  Daedalus,  the  legendary  artist  immortalised  by  the  labours  of 
science,  we  may  recognise,  if  we  please,  the  type  of  honour  legitimately 
won  by  patient  intellectual  toil ;  in  which  case  the  only  fool  will  be  he 
who  disdains  the  same  humble  track  to  glory,  and  plunged  into  the  Icariari 
sea,  expressly  to  point  our  moral.  There  are  arcliitects  of  their  own 
fortunes,  and  there  are  architects,  also,  of  their  own  misfortunes.  Who 
reckons  on  the  stability  of  a  house  run  up  in  a  night  ?  Faery  palaces  are 
only  durable  in  song.  The  song  itself  owes  its  vitality  to  the  common 
source  of  all  great  works  and  great  reputations." — A  fragment  from  thi 
Essays,  Moral,  Economical,  Political,  and  Miscellaneous,  of  the  late  Mr. 
Reuben  Medlicott. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE     ASCENT    OF    A    8KY-KOOKET. 

THERE  is  a  certain  time  in  the  lives  of  all  men,  who  start  in 
the  world  with  fervent  hopes  and  ambitious  aspirations,  when 
they  a*re  apt  to  look  round  about  them,  and  measure  their  suc 
cesses  or  their  failures  by  the  positions  of  their  friends  and  con 
temporaries;  If  they  do  not  themselves  institute  such  compari 
sons,  there  are  people  enough  ready  to  do  it  for  them.  In  the 
case  of  Mr.  Medlicott,  how  now  did  the  matter  stand  ?  The 
men  who  may  be  said  to  have  entered  the  race  along  with  him, 
and  to  have  been  in  some  measure  his  competitors,  were  Henry 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  359 

Winning,  Primrose,  and  De  Tabley.  Of  Vigors,  his  only  other 
intimate  friend  at  Hereford,  he  had  entirely  lost  sight  from  the 
time  of  his  leaving  school.  Henry  Winning  was  now  an  eminent 
lawyer,  making  a  large  income,  talked  of  as  a  likely  man  to 
be  the  next  solicitor-general,  and  looking  out  for  an  introduction 
to  parliament,  not  as  a  mere  freak  or  speculation,  but  as  a  step 
indispensably  necessary  to  be  taken  at  the  brilliant  point  he  had 
now  reached  in  his  professional  career.  De  Tabley  had  also 
prospered.  Combining  intellectual  with  convivial  tastes — and, 
fortunately  for  the  cause  of  polite  hilarity,  they  enter  into  com 
bination  extremely  well — he  had  early  fixed  his  desires  upon  the 
possession  of  some  permanent  and  well-appointed  office  under 
the  crown ;  and,  through  the  interest  of  his  friends,  he  had 
found,  in  the  Comptrollership  of  the  Navy-Victualling  Depart 
ment,  just  the  snug  and  appropriate  berth  he  coveted.  With  the 
fortune  of  Mr.  Primrose  the  reader  is  already  acquainted.  Ho 
entered  the  Church  soon  after  the  events  related  in  the  previous 
book,  and  became  the  bishop's  chaplain  and  son-in-law  imme 
diately  afterwards,  with  all  the  fair  emoluments,  and  fairer  pros 
pects,  appertaining  to  the  two  situations.  Reuben,  on  the  other 
hand,  was  in  the'  position  of  a  man  who  had  successively  em 
braced  and  abandoned  two  professions ;  he  had  quarrelled  with 
his  best  friends ;  he  had  no  property  but  a  few  shares  in  some 
Brazilian  mines,  and  no  income  but  what  he  derived  from  the 
poor  little  wife  whom  he  had  so  daringly  married,  and  who  had 
already  made  him  the  father  of  three  children,  including  little 
Chichester,  who  had  such  a  merry  christening,  and  now  promised 
to  be  a  formidable  rival  to  his  distinguished  relative,  the  right 
wonderful  Tom  Wyndham. 

To  balance  all  this,  however,  he  was  no  longer  the  "  coming 
Man."  The  Man  was  come.  He  had  now  only  to  fulfil  his 
promises — only  to  realise  the  expectations  of  that  portion  of  the 
public  in  whose  eyes  he  filled  a  space  so  considerable.  He  was 
a  member  of  parliament,  invested  with  one  six-hundred-and-fifty- 
eightb  of  its  importance,  and  wielding  the  same  fraction  of  its 
vaunted  omnipotence.  He  franked  letters,  made  laws,  put 
questions  to  Cabinet  ministers,  and  taxed  his  fellow-subjects. 
Brave  privileges  these !  but  he  would  have  enjoyed  them  more 
comfortably  and  securely,  had  he  been  indebted  for  them  to 
something  more  solid  than  the  repute  of  a  silver  tongue.  He 
entered  the  House  of  Commons,  not  merely  as  an  adventurer, 
but  an  adventurer  who  had  failed  in  several  enterprises  before 


860  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  | 

he  tried  statesmanship  and  speculated  on  the  senate.  It  is  easier 
to  talk  of  independence  under  such  circumstances  than  to  get 
credit  for  it,  and  easier  to  commend  Andrew  Marvel  than  follow 
his  example.  Mr.  Medlicott,  however,  started  with  only  too 
rigid  notions  of  purity  ;  for  he  not  merely  resolved  to  seek  noth 
ing  for  himself,  but  to  -ask  nothing  for  anybody  else ;  which 
latter  determination  was  by  no  means  as  acceptable  as  the  for 
mer  to  many  of  his  friends  and  acquaintances,  particularly  in 
the  place  which  had  sent  him  to  parliament. 

Before  parliament  met,  Mr.  Medlicott  took  a  house  in  London, 
or  rather  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Primrose  took  one  for  him,  and  laughing 
enough  they  had  about  it. 

In  London  there  are  many  very  great  streets  which  contain 
very  small  houses,  so  as  to  enable  people  of  small  incomes  to  live 
in  the  closest  neighbourhood  with  people  of  the  largest  fortunes. 
For  instance,  in  Piccadilly,  wedged  in  amongst  the  palaces  of 
princes  and  mansions  of  peers,  as  it  were  to  fill  up  a  crevice  and 
keep  the  street  steady,  there  stood  at  the  period  we  speak  of,  and 
probably  is  still  standing,  a  dwelling  so  diminutive  as  to  suggest 
the  idea,  that  after  the  completion  of  the  stately  houses  adjacent, 
some  half-dozen  bricks  and  a  couple  of  rafters  had  remained  over, 
which  the  architect,  that  nothing  might  be  lost,  and  to  demon 
strate  the  universality  of  his  genius,  had  combined,  with  the  aid 
of  a  hod  of  mortar  and  a  few  twopenny  tacks,  into  a  residence 
for  some  dapper  little  bachelor  weary  of  wife-hunting,  or  a  Lilli 
putian  spinster  desperate  of  a  husband.  It  was  just  the  sort  of 
thing  that  General  Tom  Thumb  might  take  for  the  season  ;  but 
still  it  had  most  of  the  usual  members  and  appurtenances  of  an 
ordinary  London  house.  A  hall  in  which  you  might  conceive 
Flibbertigibbet  waiting  with  Oberon's  great  coat,  a  parlour  where 
a  dozen  knights  of  faery-land  might  be  comfortable  enough 
round  a  table  as  large  as  a  cheese,  a  drawing-room  in  which  her 
Majesty  Queen  Titania  might  give  a  children's  ball,  a  couple  of 
bed-chambers  to  match,  dressing-rooms  to  correspond,  an  attic  in 
proportion,  while  subterraneously  the  baby-house  had  a  kitchen 
where  a  very  small  cook  might  manage  to  dress  a  very  small 
dinner,  with  a  cellar  in  which  pint  bottles  ranked  as  magnums, 
just  as  in  the  kitchen  Devonshire  chickens  claimed  the  consider 
ation  of  Norfolk  turkeys. 

In  short  it  was  the  smallest- mansion  in  London,  but  then  it 
was  neat  as  it  was  small.  You  might  have  fancied  that  it  had 
oome  from  HtJlland  in  a  case  of  Dutch  toys  ;  the  bricks  looked 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  361 

as  if  they  were  rouged  daily  ;  the  wonder  was  hew  it  ever  stood 
all  the  mopping  and  twigg^r,  the  brushing  and  brooming,  to 
which  it  was  plain  it  roust  hare  been  incessantly  subject. 

Such  was  144£,  Piccadilly.  Mr.  Primrose  said  it  ought  to 
have  been  144^,  for  it  would  certainly  have  taken  four  such 
houses  to  make  one  of  the  houses  in  Pall  Mall,  such  a  house,  for 
instance,  as  he  was  lodging  in  himself  at  the  time,  next  door  to 
his  father-in-law. 

"  They  will  not  be  apt  to  break  themselves  in  pictures,  at  all 
events,"  said  Mrs.  Primrose,  "  except  in  miniatures." 

"  Nor  in  books,  except  in  diamond  .editions,"  said  the 
Chaplain. 

"  I  think  the  house  would  do  very  well,"  said  De  Tabley, 
who  was  with  them,  "  only  for  the  parlour ;  I  don't  see  where 
we  are  to  dine.  Six  will  be  a  formidable  party  here." 

"  We  shall  converse  the  more  agreeably,"  said  Hyacinth  ; 
"  the  only  difficulty  I  see  is  where  to  put  the  Bishop,  if  ever 
Reuben  is  reconciled  to  him." 

Mary  Medlicott  was  enchanted  with  her  baby-house,  as  it  was 
very  properly  called,  both  by  reason  of  its  size,  and  the  ages  of 
the  majority  of  its  inhabitants.  So  far  was  she  from  thinking  it 
too  small,  that  before  the  Easter  recess  there  was  a  rumour  in  the 
family  that  an  increase  of  the  infant  population  was  an  event 
likely  to  happen  at  no  very  distant  period.  The  honourable 
member's  chief  difficulty  was  to  find  room  for  his  books,  which 
were  already  a  numerous  collection,  for  he  had  been  accumulat 
ing  ever  since  he  left  school,  and  had  now  amassed  something 
near  two  or  three  thousand  volumes.  However,  by  availing  him 
self  «of  every  nook  and  corner  in  every  room  of  the  house,  and 
even  upon  the  stairs  and  landing-places,  he  managed  to  find 
space  enough  for  his  immediate  wants.  He  now,  for  the  first 
time,  found  use  for  the  box  of  tools  which  he  had  been  presented 
with  when  a  boy  by  the  workmen  at  Westbury ;  for  he  was  able 
to  put  up'  a  variety  of  neat  little  shelves  with  his  own  hands, 
which  spared  him  not  only  the  annoyance,  but  the  expense  of 
bringing  carpenters  into  the  house. 

He  was  thus  employed  on  the  «day  before  the  House  first  met 
for  the  dispatch  of  business,  the  little  Elinor  and  Hannah  tod 
dling  after  him,  looking  sharp  after  the  chips,  which  were  their 
perquisites,  when  a  deputation  from  the  Peace  Society  waited 
upon  him  to  place  a  petition  in  his  hands,  and  solicit  his  attend 
ance  at  their  next -general  meeting. 
16 


362  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

Reuben  received  and  addressed  them  v;itli  tin  hammer  in 
his  hand  ;  and  illustrated  by  that  instrument  ingeniously  enough 
the  great  secret  of  efficient  politico  agitation,  which  consisted,  he 
said,  in  a  constant  succession  of  blowg,  every  blow  driving  the 
question  a  step  further,  a  noisy  and  a  monotonous  process  un 
doubtedly,  but  the  only  practicable  mode  of  hammering  a  new 
principle  or  a  broad  view  into  the  public  understanding. 

"  Now,"  said  Mr.  Medlicott,  tapping  his  library  table  re 
peatedly  with  the  tool  he  was  talking  of,  "  this  is  what  we  all 
ought  to  do  with  every  great  popular  question  of  the  day  ;  nev.r 
stop  hammering  in  the  House  and  out  of  the  House,  battling  in 
season  and  out  of  season,  until  we  succeed  in  carrying  our 
points." 

"  Thou  wilt  be  always  sure  to  hit  the  nail  on  the  head,"  said 
Friend  Harvey. 

"  Thou  hast  hit  the  nail  on  the  head  already,"  said  Friend 
Wilson,  using  his  nose,  as  usual,  as  an  organ  of  speech,  "  when 
thou  speakest  of  battling  in  season  and  out  of  season.  He  that 
regardeth  the  winds  will  not  sow,  saith  Solomon.  If  our  Peace 
Society  will  follow  thy  excellent  advice,  it  is  strongly  borne  in 
upon  my  mind  that  thou  wilt  live  to  sit  under  the  olive-tree  thou 
hast  been  instrumental  in  planting;  and  peradventure  we  shall 
see  the  day  when  there  will  not  be  iron  enough  in  England  to 
make  a  cannon-ball." 

"  We  must  keep  a  little  for  our  sledges,"  said  Reuben,  with 
a  bland  smile,  and  bowed  the  deputation  out  so  cleverly  that  he 
must  either  have  taken  a  lesson  on  that  head  from  Madame 
Beauvoisin,  or  studied  Mr.  Taylor's  royal  road  to  statesmanship 
very  profoundly.  We  have  mentioned  this  interview  witlr  the 
Peace  Society  only  to  show  with  what  notions  and  intentions 
Mr.  Medlicott  entered  Parliament,  how  deliberately  he  paved  the 
way  for  his  own  failure,  and  adopted  the  very  system  most  cal 
culated  of  all  others  to  ensure  it. 

Reuben's  idea  of  Avorking  questions,  and  his  mechanical  elu 
cidation  of  it,  were  regarded  by  his  own  clique,  and  by  his 
friends  the  Quakers  especial! v,  as  prodigies  of  wisdom  and  wit. 
A  careful  report  of  what  he  said  to  the  deputation  appeared  in 
the  newspapers,  and  caused  a  good  deal  of  amusement,  not  un 
mixed  with  alarm  in  many  quarters.  The  men  of  business  were 
frightened  at  the  prospect  before  them.  Mini  ;ters,  who^e  charac 
ters  depended  upon  forcing  a  certain  amount  of  legislation 
through  the  House  before  Easter,  read  of  Mr.  Medlicott  aud  ilia 
hammer  vvitk  feelings  the  most  uncomfortable. 


\ 
OR,   ?HE   COMING  MAJST.  363 

"  Awful  threatenings  these,"  said  one  secretary  to  another, 
walking  down  St.  James's  Street. 

"  These  talking  men,"  said  his  colleague,  "  are  like  the  dog 
in  the  manger ;  they  neither  do  any  business  themselves,  nor 
permit  us  to  do  it" 

"  Who  is  this  Mr.  Medlicott,  do  you  know  ?" 

"  Here  is  a  man  who  will  tell  us, — eh,  De  Tabley,  who  is 
this  formidable  Mr.  Medlicott  ?" 

De  Tabley  gave  a  substantially  correct,  but  a  good-natured  ac- 
count'of  his  friend.  The  ministers,  however,  cared  very  little  to 
hear  of  Reuben's  amiable  private  qualities,  having  had  long  ex 
perience  of  the  truth,  that  a  man  may  have  every  domestic  virtue, 
and  yet  be  a  bore  of  the  first  magnitude  in  the  relations  of  public 
life. 

"The  hammer,"  said  the  Bishop,  reading  about  it,  just 
at  the  same  moment,  at  breakfast,  in  his  lodgings  in  Pall  Mall, 
"  everything  is  to  be  done  by  hammering  in  future, — let  me  tell 
him  the  hammer  is  a  tool  not  so  easy  to  use  as  he  imagines ;  I 
know  that  by  experience.  I  remember  one  day  at  Westbury  I 
thought  I  could  hit  the  nail  on  the  head  as  well  as  any  carpenter ; 
I  certainly  hit  the-nail  but  it  was  my  thumb-nail;  that  was  what 
I  paid,  for  my  hammering.  I  never  took  a  hammer  in  my  hand 
since ;  but  wise  men  learn  by  experience,  which  fools  never  do." 

Still  Mr.  Medlicott  did  not  fail  in  the  first  instance.  He 
spoke  on  the  Address,  an  occasion  eminently  favourable  to  his 
peculiar  powers,  from  the  multiplicity  of  topics  through  which 
it  is  not  only  permissible,  but  necessary  to  ramble,  in  following 
tie  miscellaneous  subjects  introduced  into  the  Royal  speech. 
W  hen  he  rose,  there  was  that  sort  of  buzz  which  is  at  once  flat 
tering  and  exciting  to  a  speaker.'  There  was,  however,  min 
gled  with  it  the  slightest  possible  tittering  here  and  there,  through 
the  unsually  crowded  House,  perhaps  occasioned  by  the  indiscreet 
zeal  with  which  his  friends  had  blown  the  trumpet  before  him, 
but  more  probably  provoked  by  the  elaborateness  of  his  toilette, 
particulary  the  foppish  'arrangement  of  his  hair,  his  white  waist 
coat,  and  a  pair  of  canary-coloured  gloves,  which  at  once  recalled 
to  the  memory  of  Winning  and  De  Tabley,  seated  under  the 
gallery,  the  gloves  that  Barsac  was  in  the  habit  of  wearing  at 
his  suppers  when  he  carved  the  ducks.  But  this  slight  disposi 
tion  to  laugh,  whatever  was  the  cause  of  it,  ceased  almost  as  soon 
as  it  showed  itself;  and  Mr.  Medlicott  delivered  himself  with 
eclat  of  the  only  speech  of  equal  length  waich  it  was  ever  his  lot 


364:  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

to  make  in  the  Senate  without  the  most  painful  and  systematic 
interruptions.  Experienced  parliament-men  saw  clearly  enough 
that  his  style  of  speaking  would  never  suit  that  assembly ;  but, 
nevertheless,  as  a  first  speech,  it  was  listened  to  with  polite 
attention,  and  generally  well  received ;  everybody  was  surprised 
at  the  profusion  of  flowers,  illustrations,  anecdotes  and  quotations 
scattered  through  it ;  men  of  taste  and  judgment  were  offended, 
of  course  ;  but  with  a  considerable  number  it  passed  for  a  superb 
effort,  and  their  cheers  at  the  time,  and  their  congratulations 
afterwards,  left  a  strong  impression  to  the  same  effect  upon  the 
mind  of  the  young  member  himself. 

Probably  the  few  months  that  succeeded  this  his  first  and 
only  successful  effort,  were  the  most  flourishing  and  satisfactory 
of  his  whole  career  in  public,  lie  had  now,  although  he  knew 
it  not,  like  Wolsey, 

"  Touched  the  highest  point  of  all  his  greatness." 

The  rocket  had  gone  off,  exceedingly  brilliant  in  its  ascent, 
and  "  the  observed  of  all  observers ;"  "but  it  was  short-lived  as  it 
was  brilliant,  and  no  sooner  did  it  shoot  to  its  full  height  than  it 
began  to  fall,  much  diminished  in  lustre,  and  only  emitted  fitful 
sparks  at  intervals,  before  it  went  out  altogether  and  completed 
its  destiny.  An  ^vent,  too,  that  occurred  at  Chichester  during 
this  period,  made  a  substantial  addition  to  its  prosperity,  although 
in  itself  as  melancholy  as  it  was  sudden  and  unexpected.  This 
was  the  decease  of  the  good  Mr.  Broad,  the  «iost  zealous  and 
devoted  of  all  Mr.  Medlicott's  friends,  and  who,  in  retiring  from  the 
world,  gave  an  irrefragable  proof  of  the  sincerity  of  his  friendship, 
by  leaving  him  ^property  to  the  amount  of  upwards  often  thousand 
pounds,  a  most  important  reinforcement  of  his  slender  mqans. 
It  was  also  during  this  smiling  period  that,  at  the  solicitation  of 
many  of  his  admirers,  he  sat  to  an  eminent  portrait-painter  for 
his  full-length  picture,  which  was  duly  exhibited  at  Somerset 
House,  among  the  other  works  of  the  modern  British  pencil.  It 
attracted  particular  notice  on  account  of  the  interesting  situation 
in  which  Mr.  Medlicott  was  represented.  He  was  painted  in  1  is 
library,  habited  in  the  same  sort  *"  robe  which  his  aunt  had 
formerly  presented  him  with,  and  diverting  himself  with  his 
children.  The  table  at  his  side  was  covered  with  drafts  of  bills, 
the  floor  was  strewn  with  blue-books,  upon  a  pile  of  which  in  the 
back-grouiRl  his  wife  was  seated,  intently  poring  over  the  Mirror 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  365 

of  Parliament,  no  coubt  perusing  her  husband's  speech.  To  do 
Mr.  Medlicott  justice,  this  egregious  piece  of  absurdity  was  not  oi 
his  own  devising;  it  was  the  doing  of  Friend  Harvey  principally, 
who,  having  ojice  conceived  this  mode  of  treating  the  subject, 
never  rested  until  he  persuaded  everybody  about  him  that  there 
was  no  other  way  of  doing  it  justice. 

The  Primroses  particularly  larrfented  indiscretions  of  this  kind, 
and  so  did  the  worthy  Mrs.  Wyndham  (always  a  warm  and 
steadfast  friend),  because  they  tended  greatly  to  increase  the 
difficulty  of  bringing  about  a  reconciliation  between  Reuben  and 
his  grandfather,  which  it  was  their  desire  of  all  things  to  accom 
plish.  There  was  a  portrait  of  the  Bishop  in  the  same  exhibition, 
and  by  mere  accident  the  two  pictures  chanced  to  be  placed 
side  by  side,  when  the  gallery  was  first  opened  to  the  public. 
At  this  the  Bishop  was  so  angry  that  he  wrote  to  the  Society  of 
Artists,  and  requested  them  to  place  his  portrait  anywhere  else 
in  the  room,  or  if  that  was  not  possible,  to  remove  it  altogether. 
The  picture  was  actually  removed  to  gratify  his  caprice,  which 
was  the  less  excusable,  as  he  had  himself  entertained  a  serious 
design  of  having  the  portrait  of  little  Tom  executed  on  the  same 
canvass  with  his  own,  and  had  only  been  diverted  from  it  by  the 
sensible  remonstrances  of  his  wife  and  daughter. 

We  must,  however,  do  the  Bishop  justice  to  state  that  he 
did  not  contribute  one  farthing  to  the  fund  for  resisting  Mr.  Med- 
licott's  return  to  parliament.  What  he  might  have  done,  if 
Reuben's  enemies  had  been  more  fortunate  in  their  choice  of  a 
rival  candidate,  is  matter  of  speculation ;  but  he  had  no  notion 
of  spending  his  money  to  bring  in  such  a  person  as  Mr.  Pigwid- 
geon ;  that  was  a  length  the  Bishop's  personal  resentment  did 
not  transport  him  to,  and  accordingly  he  left  Mr.  Barsac  to  bear 
the  whole  expense  of  the  contest,  a  just  punishment  for  that 
gentleman's  mean  and  malignant  conduct  in  the  transaction. 


CHAPTER  II. 

AIR8   AND  AFFECTATIONS — DISCORDS  AND   RECONCILEMENTS.' 

IT  may  seem  surr rising  that  several  months  should  have  elapsed 
without  a  seconu  speech  from  Mr.  Medlicott,  particularly  after  a 
first  effort  which  might  fairly  have  been  considered  a  triumph. 


366  THE    UNIVEFxSAL    GENIUS  J 

In  fact  it  was  not  his  fault  that  he  did  not  make  many  orations 
in  the  same  period  ;  he  came  down  to  the  House  at  least  a  dozen 
times,  fully  prepared  to  address  it,  an  intention  of  which  his  toi 
lette  was  always  the  most  palpable  evidence ;  but  between  the 
difficulty  of  catching  the  Speaker's  eye,  the  countings  out,  and 
now  and  then  the  failure  to  make  a  House  (which  was  sometimes 
more  a  personal  matter  than  he  suspected),  his  preparations  were 
as  often-  thrown  away,  his  intentions  baffled,  and  more  than  once 
parties  of  his  friends  disappointed,  who  had  flocked  to  the 
strangers'  gallery  to  hear  him.  As  to  his  preparations,  indeed, 
it  is  not  correct  to  say  that  they  were  thrown  away  absolutely, 
for  it  was  one  of  the  advantages  of  his  manner  of  treating  most 
questions,  that  a  speech  of  his  never  suffered  much  by  postpone 
ment  ;  if  he  failed  to  make  it  in  one  debate,  he  made  it  in 
another ;  and  when  the  worst  came  to  the  worst,  there  was  al 
ways  the  Freemasons'  Tavern,  or  Exeter  Hall,  where  there  was 
no  doubt  of  its  making  a  hit. 

Upon  the  whole,  however,  he  had  time  enough  on  his  hands 
for  other  employments  than  speech-making,  and  he  divided  it  in 
fair  proportions  between  preparing  drafts  of  various  bills,  to  im 
mortalise  his  name  as  a  law-giver,  and  defending  his  seat,  (which 
he  did  successfully,)  against  the  petition  of  Dr.  Pigwidgeon. 

This  was  one  of  the  dining  eras  of  Mr.  Medlicott's  variegated 
life.  He  brushed  up  his  practical  knowledge  of  gastronomy, 
revived  the  admirable  corkscrew  he  had  formerly  invented, 
spared  no  expense  with  his  banquets  to  have  them  rtcherche, 
and  might  have  generally  succeeded  in  making  pleasant  parties 
if  he  had  been  less  parliamentary  and  loquacious  at  the  head  of 
his  table,  and  if  his  inordinate  vanity  and  desire  to  be  in  every 
body's  good  graces  had  not  led  him  to  bring  people  together  in 
the  strangest  possible  groups,  utterly  incapable  of  amalgamation." 

When  the  company  was  chosen  from  the  list  of  his  old 
friends  and  his  near  relatives  and  connections,  all  was  well  ;  and 
in  like  manner  when  the  Harveys  and  Trevors  came  to  a  little 
social  meeting  at  144£,  nothing  could  be  more  successful  of  its 
kind  ;  but  Mr.  Medlicott  made  a  great  mistake  in  trying  to  fuse 
his  fussy  Quakers  and  dreary  Quakeresses,  his  French  adventurers, 
and  his  Chichester  Aldermen,  with  the  men  of  wit,  fashion,  and 
parliamentary  distinction,  whom  he  was  in  the  habit  of  inviting 
to  his  Saturday  dinners.  Indeed  he  was  too  fond  of  inviting 
people  merely  because  they  were  personages  or  celebrities. 
While  they  honoured  his  little  table,  they  proportionally  fluttered 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN.  367 

hi-<  little  wife,  poor  Mary,  with  .ier  simple  Quak-rly  habi.s  and 
inexperience  of  all  stars  and  ribbons,  save  the  stars  in  the  sky, 
and  the  plain  ribbons  in  her  seini-Quakerly  bonnet.  Reuben 
was  greatly  attached  and  devoted  to  her ;  but,  nevertheless,  he 
would  occasionally  invite*  the  pompous  Lord  Greenwich,  or  a 
French  Marquis  with  a  formidable  moustache,  or  a  turbaned  at 
tach^  of  the  Turkish  embassy  with  a  beard  and  a  scimetar,  to 
dine  with  him  on  a  day  when  perhaps  the  rest  of  the  company 
were  all  Obadiahs  find  Hachaels.  Mary  dreaded  a  moustache 
exceedingly,  having  never  seen  one  at  meeting,  and  haung  early 
associated  everything  hirsute  with  ideas  of  wars  and  tumults. 
Captain  Shunfield  was  the  only  hairy  man  she  felt  easy  in  com 
pany  with,  but  nobody  feared  the  innocent  Captain  Shunfield. 
By-the-bye,  he  had  learned  to  sing  since  we  met  him  last ;  but, 
as  he  never  sang  war-songs,  but  was  more  given  to  serenades 
and  lullabies,  his  voice  rather  mitigated  than  increased  the  effect 
-of  his  whiskers. 

Pleasant  days,  however,  were  spent  in  144£,  Piccadilly.  It 
was  the  fault  of  the  M.  P.  himself  if  there  were  not  more  of  them, 
and  if  they  were  not  always  as  pleasant  as  they  certainly  some 
times  were. 

The  dinners  were  little,  of  course,  because  the  kitchen  and 
the  dining-room  were,  as  we  have  seen, 'on  the  smallest  scale. 
On  one  occasion,  when  Mrs.  Medlicott  apologised  to  her  friends 
for  having  only  shrimp  sauce  with  the  fish,  Mr.  Primrose  amused 
them  by  observing  that  no  excuse  was  called  for,  as  the  house 
was  too  small  for  lobsters.  Sometimes,  indeed,  the  dinners,  if 
not  too  small  for  the  house,  were  too  small  for  the  society.  It 
occasionally  happened  that  a  few  of  the  Chichester  people  would 
corne  up  to  London,  either  with  a  petition,  or  smelling  after  a 
place  or  a  job.  In  the  lobby  of  the  House  one  day,  Mr.  Medli 
cott  met  the  two  Aldermen,  who  had  supported  him  so  strenu 
ously,  and  he  thought  it  his  duty  to  entertain  them.  Perhaps  it 
was  ;  but  it  was  still  more  clearly  his  duty,  having  invited  them, 
to  make  proper  provision  for  their  animal  wants.  Just  think  of 
the  dinner  he  set  before  Aldermen  Codd  and  Gosling,  and  at 
nine  o'clock,  when  their  appetites  called  for  barons  of  beef.  A 
potago  with  a  fine  name,  which  they  took  to  be  chicken-broth  ; 
a  mackerel  a-la-mattre-d'h6tel1  absolutely  Greek  to  their  wor 
ships  ;  a  Devonshire  chicken  a^-trujfes — why,  he  might  as  well 
have  served  up  a  canary  ;  a  plat  of  roynons,  which  he  did  not 
even  acquaint  them  were  only  FVenchified  kidneys  ; — in  short,  a 


868  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

Spanish  ham  on  the  sideboard  was  the  only  dish  in  the  room 
that  was  not  either  above  their  understanding,  or  beneath  their 
notice,  and  even  of  that  they  could  only  get  a  Vauxhall  slice  or 
two.  What  was  it  to  them  that  they  were  attended  by  a  gentle-, 
man  in  a  white  waistcoat,  a  powdered  footman,  and  a  black  boy  ? 
They  found  themselves  much  in  the  situation  of  reynard  at  the 
stork's  feast,  and  retired  as  soon  as  they  decently  could  to  get 
something  substantial  in  a  tavern  ;  but  it  was  already  Sunday 
morning,  and  not  a  tavern  was  open,  or  would  open  their  do^rs 
for  love  or  for  money. 

The  nine  o'clock  dinner  was  itself  a  piece  of  affectation. 
Ministers  dined  at  eight.  There  was  no  reason  in  the  world  why 
Mr.  Medlicott  should  not  have  dined  at  seven.  The  Bishop's 
hour  was  six,  and  whenever  he  heard  of  his  grandson's  invita 
tions  for  nine  o'clock,  he  was  most  indignant  at  his  airs  and  as 
sumption,  and  wondered  how  any  sensible  man  would  dine  with 
the  coxcomb.  When  the  Primroses  dined  in  Piccadilly,  they 
did  so  almost  by  stealth,  generally  when  the  Bishop  dined  out 
himself,  and  always  pretending  that  it  was  only  to  tea  they  were 
going.  The  Medlicotts  more  frequently  dined  with  the  Prim 
roses  in  those  days,  than  the  Primroses  with  the  Medlicott?, 
Hyacinth  stood  in  great  awe  of  his  master,  and  never  dared  t: 
be  absent  from  his  side,  or  at  least  out  of  his  reach,  for  manj 
hours  at  a  time.  Besides,  another  advantage  of  the  dinners  it 
Pall-Mall  was  that  Mrs.  Wyndham  could  now  and  then  manage 
to  come  to  them. 

The  favourite  nights  were  those  when  the  House  of  Lords 
happened  to  be  sitting,  for  then  poor  Blanche  would  be  rash  or 
unnatural  enough  to  confide  her  son  to  his  regular  nurses,  and 
dine  with  her  next-door  neighbours,  or  even  accompany  them 
to  the  opera  or  a  play.  It  was  always,  however,  with  fear  and 
trembling,  lest  the  debate  should  prematurely  close,  and  the 
Bishop  come  thundering  home  at  an  irregularly  early  hour. 
More  than  once  such  surprises  happened,  and  the  apprehension 
of  them  kept  Blanche  in  a  state  of  nervousness  that  spoiled 
half  her  enjoyment.  Upon  one  occasion,  in  the  middle  of  a 
pleasant  supper,  she  was  suddenly  electrified  by  the  coachman's 
well-known  knock  at  the  door  of  her  own  lodgings ;  she  ran 
from  the  table  with  only  a  shawl  over  her  head,  and  "by  her 
agility  and  good  fortune  got  into  the  house  before  her  husband, 
who,  finding  her  at  her  post,  never  dreamed  she  had  been  a 
deserter  from  her  maternal  duties. 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAIS'.  369 

Reuben  was  most  sincerely  anxious  to  be  restored  to  his 
grandfather's  good  graces,  but  it  was  a  ticklish  subject  to  ap 
proach,  and  he  was  always-  doing  something,  often,  no  doubt, 
unavoidably,  to  increase  the  difficulties  of  it.  If  he  could  have 
given  up  the  practice  of  attending  all  sorts  of  fanatical  meet 
ings  and  spouting  at  them,  the  Bishop  might  have  been  more 
placable ;  but  Reuben  was  no  longer  entirely  his  own  master 
in  this  respect.  He  had  become  almost  a  slavish  instrument  in 
the  hands  of  the  Quakers,  in  Harvey's  especially.  With  all  the 
appearance  of  following  and  idolising,  they  in  reality  command 
ed  him ;  in  fact  they  had  found  what  is  vulgarly  called  his 
"  blind  side,"  and  turned  the  discovery  to  account  most  shrewd 
ly  and  systematically. 

The  proceedings  of  the  Peace  Society  were,  of  all  others, 
the  most  offensive  to  Dr.  Wyndham,  as  might  have  been  expect 
ed  from  the  muscular  common-sense  that  distinguished  him. 
He  could  have  forgiven  Reuben  more  easily  for  joining  any  other 
association  than  this;  he  could  have  pardoned  his  coquetting  with 
the  Temperance  movement,  and  even  his  incipient  hankerings 
after  the  Vegetarians ;  but  the  stark-staring  nonsense  of  Friend 
Wilson,  and  the  soi-disant  apostles  of  Peace,  made  him  so  furi 
ous,  that  he  sometimes  was  betrayed  into  speaking  of  war  with 
less  horror  and  disgust  than  was  quite  becoming  in  a  Christian 
prelate. 

If  it  had  not  been  for  Mrs.  Wyndham's  strong  friendship  for 
Reuben,  and  her  perfect  understanding  of  the  best  way  of 
managing  her  husband,  it  is  questionable  if  the  reconciliation, 
so  desirable  on  all  accounts,  would  ever  have  taken  place. 

Reuben  and  the  Bishop  met  occasionally ;  sometimes  in  one 
or  other  of  the  Houses  of  Parliament,  sometimes  in  the  streets ; 
but  the  Bishop  always  affected  not  to  see  or  recognise  him,  while 
the  sudden  aversion  of  his  eyes,  or  sharp  contraction  of  his  brows, 
accompanied  perhaps  by  a  short,  dry,  little  contemptuous  cough, 
showed  plainly  enough  that  he  knew  him  perfectly  well. 

Reuben  used  often  to  stand  at  a  window  with  his  aunt  and 
.Hyacinth,  observing  his  grandfather  getting  into  his  carriage, 
accompanied  by  Mrs.  Wyndham,  the  nurse,  and  the  prodigy. 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  one  day,  "  I  am  provided  with  as  curinus 
a  set  of  relations  as  any  man  living;  only  think  of  that  pretty 
young  woman  Seing  my  gfandmcther ;  and  my  old  school 
fellow  here,  and  that  brat  yonder,  being  my  uncles — undo 
Hyacinth  and  uncle  Tom." 
16* 


870  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS', 

Mrs.  Primrose  fell  back  on  her  chair  laughing. 

His  friends  then  informed  Reuben  that  his  grandfather  had 
been  incensed  beyond  measure  at  his  giving  his  son  the  ostenta 
tious  name  of  Chichester.  He  might  as  well,  he  said,  have  call 
ed  him  Sussex.  Suppose  he  had  christened  his  son  Salisbury, 
•what  would  the  world  have  said  ?  It  reminded  him  of  the  block 
head  Barsac  wanting  him  to  sleep  in  a  bed  with  mitres  on  the 
curtains.  The  Bishop  repeated  the  name  .of  Chichester  ten 
times  a  day  to  express  his  contempt  for  it ;  but  sometimes  he 
pretended  to  forget  it,  and  called  the  child  Dorchester  and  Por- 
chester,  and  even  Gatton  upon  one  occasion. 

His  lordship  was  to  dine  that  day  with  the  Prime  Minister. 
Reuben  proposed  that  the  Primroses  should  dine  with  him,  and 
perhaps  they  might  prevail  upon  Mrs.  Wyndham  to  accompany 
them.  His  aunt  shook  her  head  once  for  the  first  proposition, 
and  twice,  still  more  distinctly,  for  the  second.  Hyacinth,  how 
ever,  took  a  sudden  fit  of  independence,  and  promised  for  him 
self  and  his  wife  intrepidly.  As  to  Blanche,  the  question,  as 
usual,  was  whether  she  would  venture  to  quit  her  post  beside 
uncle  Tom's  cot  for  a  few  hours.  Mrs.  Primrose  first  thought 
she  would,  then  again  she  thought  she  wouldn't;  the  chaplain's 
mind  alternated  the  other  way.  They  promised,  however,  to 
bring  Blanche  with  them,  if  possible,  and  the  issue  was  that 
Blanche  was  courageous  too,  and  saw  no  reason  why  she  should 
not  for  once  take  a  quiet  dinner  with  her  grandson  and  old  ad 
mirer.  No  doubt  she  was  influenced  considerably  by  her  wo 
manly  curiosity  to  see  the  interior  of  Mr.  Medlicott's  little  menage, 
of  which  she  had  heard  so  much ;  but  she  was  also  beginning  to 
feel  strongly  that  the  Bishop's  aversion  to  Reuben  was  not  to  be 
overcome  by  yielding  to  it  so  tamely  as  his  friends  had  hitherto 
done.  She  never  dreamed,  however,  of  dining  at  .Piccadilly  that 
day,  without  acquainting  her  husband  with  her  intentions  ;  but 
when  she  was  dressed,  and  proceeded  to  his  study  or  dressing- 
room  (for  the  one  chamber  with  him  generally  served  both  pur 
poses),  he  was  just  stepping  into  the  coach,  and  he  drove  away 
while  she  was  running  down  stairs  to  speak  to  him  before  he 
went  out. 

The  ministerial  dinner  was  punctual.  Mr.  Medlicott's  was 
neeJlessly  and  wantonly  the  reverse.  One  of  his  absurd  and 
provoking  social  tricks  (for  they  deserve  no  more  indulgent 
name)  was  to  keep  his  company  waiting,  and  be  the  last  to  en 
ter  his  own  drawing-room,  feigning  to  be  more  overwhelmed 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  371 

with  state  affairs  than  cabinet-ministers.  It  was  half-past  nine 
that  day  before  he  offered  his  arm  to  Mrs.  Wyndham  to  co:  duct 
her  to  dinner.  It  was  past  midnight  before  she  got  back  to  her 
lodgings.  The  Bishop  was  half-way  to  bed,  and  there  was  such 
a  fracas  as  had  never  before  occurred  between  them.  Blanche, 
though  somewhat  vexed  with  herself,  was  prepared  for  the  scene, 
and  comported  herself  spiritedly  and  dexterously  through  it. 
The  Bishop,  who  had  put  on  his  night-cap,  but  had  only  par 
tially  disembarrassed  himself  of  his  clothes,  cut  the  oddest  possible 
figure  during  the  altercation.  He  threw  all  his  controversial  en 
ergy  and  virulence  into  the  abuse  with  which  he  deluged  her.  He 
attacked  her  in  his  low  harsh  tones,  as  a  woman,  a  wife,  and  a 
mother ;  he  called  her  a  rak^e,  reminded  her  of  her  marriage 
vows,  and  desired  to  know  whether  she  had  made  up  her  mind 
to  neglect  for  the  future  all  her  maternal  duties.  Mi's.  Wynd 
ham  never  interrupted  him,  until  at  length  he  insinuated  that 
t-he  had  probably  often  gone  about  gadding  to  dinners  and  else 
where,  when  his  back  was  turned.  This  charge  she  at  once  de 
nied  in  a  few  quiet  emphatic  words.  lie  did  not  repeat  it. 
Then  she  took  up  the  other  accusations,  one  after  the  other,  and 
disposed  of  them  successively.  As  to  raking,  she  had  never  be 
fore  dined  out  without  him ;  and  she  had  not  been  at  a  ball  the 
whole  season,  even  at  Portland  Place.  With  respect  to  her  con 
jugal  duties,  she  could  only  say  that  she  had  done  her  best,  but 
she  hoped  his  next  wife  would  discharge  them  more  efficiently. 
Finally,  as  to  her  motherly  offices,  she  affirmed  very  decidedly 
that  she  was  the  best  judge  whether  they  were  or  were  not  in 
compatible  with  her  dining  now  and  then  at  a  friend's  house, 
particularly  when  that  friend  was  his  own  grandson.  Blanche 
knew  very  well  the  effect  this  was  likely  to  produce. 

"  Don't  call  him  grandson  of  mine,"  the  Bishop  growled,  as 
he  plucked  off  his  apron  ;  "I  have  long  ago  renounced  him,  and 
you  know  it." 

"  Not  with  justice,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Wyndham,  with  decision. 

The  Bishop  was  white  with  rage,  and  ran  through  a  cata 
logue  of  Reuben's  offences. 

"  lie  commenced  by  burning  rry  haggard." 

Blanche  congratalated  her  old  husband  upon  the  vigour  of 
his  memory  and  the  minuteness  of  his  recollections. 

"  He  assailed  »ie  in  public ;  he  had  the  spirit  to  slander  a 
clergyman,  and  the  decency  to  abuse  his  grandfather." 

"  He  never  did  abuse  you,  sir." 


372  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

"  "What,  not  abuse  me !  did  he  not  denounce  me  a  renegade, 
or  an  apostate  ?" 

"  No,  sir,  he  did  not."  She  paused,  and  slily  added,  "  He 
did  not  know  you  had  apostatised,  sir,  when  he  made  the  speech 
you  allude  to." 

"  Apostatised  ! — you,  too,  madam !"  he  rejoined,  with  uncon 
trolled  amazement  at  her  confidence,  and  pulling  off  his  cravat 
while  he  spoke. 

"  You  changed  your  mind,  sir.  Reuben  did  not  know  you 
had  changed  it.  I  did  not  know  it  myself,  although  I  v\as  your 
wife  at  the  time." 

"  Probably  not ;  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  communicating 
my  political  opinions  to  my  wives." 

"  At  all  events,"  pursued  Blanche,  "  whatever  he  did  or  said 
so  long  ago,  it  might  veiy  properly  be  forgotten  .now ;  he  never 
intentionally  offended  you,  and  he  has  long  sincerely  regretted 
that  he  did  so  without  intending  it." 

The  Bishop  was  silent  for  several  minutes,  saving  the  strange 
abnormal  sounds  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of  uttering  involun 
tarily. 

"  How  comes  it,  my  dear,"  he  said  at  length,  in  an  altered 
and  subdued  tone,  "  how  comes  it  that  he  has  got,  of  a  sudden, 
such  a  zealous  advocate  in  you  ?" 

"  Mr.  Medlicott  was  an  old  flame  of  mine,  you  know,  sir, 
that's  one  of  my  reasons  for  taking  his  part,"  she  replied,  with 
the  utmost  gravity,  while  she  picked  up  his  cra,vat  and  other 
things  which  he  had  strewn  on  the  floor. 

"  Any  other  ?"  he  continued,  now  speaking  in  the  manner  of 
a  man  who  really  wtshed  to  hear  the  entire  of  what  his  opponent 
had  to  urge. 

"  For  your  own  sake,  sir,  just  as  much  as  for  his,"  replied 
his  wife ;  "  nay,  more  for  your  own  sake  a  great  deal." 

"  An  old  flame  of  yours,"  murmured  the  Bishop ;  "  how 
many  flames  had  you,  I  should  like  to  know  ?" 

"  I  am  not  in  the  habit,"  said  Blanche,  parodying  the  odd  ex 
pression  the  Bishop  had  used  a  little  before,  "  of  communicating 
my  love  secrets  to  my  husbands.  However,  I  have  no  great 
objection  to  make  you  my  confidant, — upon  one  condition." 

He  desired  her  to  name  it. 

"  You  must  retract  all  your  abuse  of  m«  awhile  ago — you 
called  me  a  rake — now  am  I  a  rake  ?" 

"  It  was  too  strong  a  word,"  said  the  Bishop. 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  373 

"  And  a  careless  wife  ?" 

"  I  don't  think  I  said  that." 

"  And  you  said  I  was  an  unnatural  mother, — is  that  true  ?" 

"  Polemical  habits,"  said  the  Bishop,  giving  way  now  to  his 
fair  opponent  right,  left,  and  centre,  "lead  men  sometimes  to 
overcharge  their  statements." 

"  Well,  sir,  I'll  now  tell  you  all  my  love-secrets, — I  never 
had  but  one  flame  in  my  life ;  unfortunately  for  myself  he  was 
shockingly  given  to  the  habits  you  speak  of." 

"  He  must  try  to  correct  them,"  said  the  Bishop,  kissing  her. 

"Naughty  habits  for  a  divine,  are  they  not?"  said  Blanche, 
radiant  with  her  amiable  triumph. 

"  Even  divines  are  human,"  said  her  husband. 

"  You  will  be  a  good  Bishop  in  future." 

"  I'll  try." 

"  And  a  good  grandfather." 

"  I'll  endeavour." 

"  Dr  Wyndham  was  never  so  foiled  in  debate  from  the  day 
that  he  first  entered  the  lists  of  controversy.  Blanche  was  far  too 
discreet  to  push  her  victory  farther  at  the  time.  She  said  nothing 
more  of  Mr.  Medlicott,  but  encouraged  her  husband  to  talk  of 
his  dinner  at  the  Minister's,  which  he  did  until  he  fell  asleep. 


CHAPTER  HI. 

A   SCENE   IN   KENSINGTON   GARDENS. 

IT  was  an  important  point  gained,  bringing  Mr.  Medlicott  back 
into  amicable  relations  with  the  old  Prelate,  whose  virtues,  as  well 
as  his  faults,  were  thumpers,  and  who,  with  his  fame,  rank,  and 
force  of  character,  made  a  powerful  and  splendid  centre  to  the 
now  rapidly  extending  family  circle.  The  house  was  no  longer 
divided  against  itself,  and  the  amiable  Blanche  had  earo^d  the- 
blessing  of  the  peace-makers. 

The  next  morning,  at  breakfast,  to  the  vast  astonishment  of 
the  Primroses,  the  Bishop  was  talking  of  Reuben  as  if  he  had 
never  been  estranged  from  him,  and  calmly  discussing  with  his 
chaplain  the  pros  and  cons  of  his  grandson's  parliamentary  suc 
cess.  Hyacinth  was  hopeful,  as  became  a  friend.  The  Bishop, 


374  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

more  sagacious,  argued  nothing  but  failure  from  Mr.  Medlicott's 
unfortunate  mental  habits,  and  particularly  his  morlid  craving 
after  applause  and  popularity.  He  spoke  kindly  however  upon 
these  points,  and  even  referred  with  temper  to  Reuben's 
dargeroua  associations  with  the  noisiest  and  most  fanatical 
bu^y-bodies  of  the  day.  Mrs.  Wyndham  secretely  cherished  a 
hope,  that  her  experienced  and  strong-minded  husband  would 
soon  begin  to  exert  a  useful  influence  in  this  respect  over  his  de.- 
scendant,  and  possibly  succeed  in  withdrawing  him  from  some  of 
the  most  objectionable  connections  in  which  he  was  involved  : 
out  this  was  a  vain  expectation.  The  Bishop  was  too  old  a  man 
now  to  engage  in  the  task  of  reclaiming  anybody  whatever ;  he 
was  prepared  to  lay  aside,  and  he  did  lay  aside,  every  vestige  of 
angry  feeling,  with  the  magnanimity  that  became  him; 'but  in 
the  same  philosophical  spirit,  he  deliberately  laid  himself  out  to 
observe  the  rest  of  his  grandson's  career,_as  the  mere  working 
out  of  a  sort  of  problem  in  the  science  of  life ; — given,  as  it  were, 
a  certain  redundancy  of  the  faculty  of  speech,  certain  considerable 
powers  of  memory,  a  known  amount  of  self-conceit,  a  certain 
marked  deficiency  in  resolution  and  perseverance,  a  wife  and 
children,  a  seat  in  Parliament,  and  no  stake  in  the  country, — to 
determine  what  a  man's  place  in  the  world  will  be  at  the  expira 
tion  of  a  term  of  years. 

The  first  meeting  between  the  reconciled  parties  took  place 
accidentally  in  Kensington  Gardens.  The  Bishop  was  fond  of 
taking  a  stately  walk  there  now  and  then,  attended  by  his  suit, 
consisting  of  his  wife,  the  Primroses,  the  nurse,  and  Uncle  Tom, 
as  the  infant  Wyndham  was  now  generally  called  in  the  family. 
The  Barsacs  were  always  anxious  to  meet  him  there,  but  they 
were  seldom  successful,  as  the  Bishop's  times  for  doing  any  par 
ticular  thing,  or  going  any  particular  place,  were  not  the  most 
regular.  It  happened  one  day,  however,  that  the  Barsacs  and 
Wyndhams  met  on  the  promenade,  and  formed  a  most  imposing 
procession,  marching  in  two  lines,  four  abreast,  the  stout  old 
Prelate  slightly  in  advance  of  everybody,  On  his  right,  in  the 
first  J^e,  was  the  nurse  with  Tom  in  her  arms. ;  on  his  left  was 
Mr.  Primrose',  about  whom  there  was  now  a  good  deal  of  clerical 
foppery,  more  than  the  Bishop  liked.  The  Barsacs  were  in  the 
rear,  but  as  close  to  their  right  reverend  son-in-law  as  thej 
well  could  have  been  without  treading  on  his  heels.  While  they 
proceeded  at  the  proper  dignified  pace,  much  noticed  by  the  other 
promenaders,  Mr.  Barsac,  to  make  himself  as  agreeable  as  pos- 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN".  375 

sible,  began  to  talk  of  Parliament  with  his  nsual  pomposity,  and 
soon  fell  into  his  usual  way  of  making  dull  hits  at  Reuben. 

"  Eloquence  won't  do  in  the  House  of  Commons  now-a-days," 
said  Barsac, — "  if  ever  I  go  into  Parliament" — 

"  You  will  avoid  that  fault,"  said  the  Bishop  drily,  taking 
Tom  out  of  the  nurse's  arms  as  lie  spoke,  and  paying  him  much 
more  respect  than  he  paid  his  father-in-law. 

"  But,  in  fact,"  persisted  the  merchant,  "  that  sort  of  thing  is 
not  oratory  at  all — that's  what  I  mean  to  say,  my  lord." 

"  What  sort  of  thing  ?"  asked  the  Bishop  over  his  shoulder. 

"  You  know,  my  lord,  we  were  talking  of  Mr.  Medlicott's 
style  of  speaking  ;  you  don't  call  that  eloquence  ?" 

"  But  I  do,  sir,"  replied  the  Prelate,  stiffly. 

Mr.  Barsac  was  meditating  how  to  back  out  of  his  unlucky 
criticisms,  when  Mrs.  Wyndham  exclaimed — 

"  Oh,  I  protest  there  is  Mrs.  Medlicott  and  her  baby  under 
the  trees  yonder  !" 

"  Where  ?  which  is  Mrs.  Medlicott  ?"  asked  the  Bishop, 
with  anxiety,  turning  round  to  his  wife. 

Mrs.  Wyndham  pointed  her  out. 

"  I'll  go  to  her  and  make  her  acquaintance,"  said  the  Bishop, 
— "  Do  you  hold  Tom," — and  forgetting  that  the  nurse  was  at 
his  elbow,  as  well  as  his  chaplain  (who,  indeed,  often  performed 
the  duty  of  a  bonne  f/'en/cms),  he  placed  Tom  in  the  arms  of  the 
astonished  Barsac,  whose  regard  for  his  waistcoat  and  his  nose 
gay  made  him  always  entertain  the  liveliest  horror  of  infants  of 
that  age.  Little  cared  the  Bishop  how  Tom  treated  the  mer 
chant's  gay  bunch  of  exotics ;  he  advanced  to  poor  Mary  Med 
licott  with  a  vigorous  cordiality  that  charmed  his  wife  and 
daughter,  to  whom  this  was  a  moment  of  the  deepest  interest. 
Mary,  always  timid  before  grandees,  and  apt  to  be  alarmed  by 
big  wigs,  was  no  sooner  fluttered  by  the  unexpectedness  of  this 
rencontre,  than  she  was  calmed  and  encouraged  by  the  frankness 
and  heartiness  of  the  old  man's  voice  and  manner.  He  shook 
her  by  the  hand,  said  he  was  to  blame  for  not  having  known  her 
before,  but  it  was  better  late  than  never,  and  then  he  asked  for 
her  husband  and  her  children  with  all  the  kindness  of  his  softest 
hours. 

"  Mr.  Medlicott  is  not  far  off,"  said  Mary,  still  tremulous,  but 
more  with  pleasure  than  awe  ;  "  he  left  me  only  this  instant,  to 
show  Chichester  the  swans." 

"And  how  is  the  little  Chichester?     I  have  heard  a  great 


876  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  , 

deal  of  Lim.  Tom  and.  he  must  be  friends,"  said  tl  e  Bishop, 
taking  a  seat  that  was  vacant  beside  Mrs.  Medlicott. 

Before  he  was  seated  there  a  minute,  he  had  fixed  an  early 
day  for  her  and  her  husband  to  dine  with  him.  Mr.  Medlicott 
himself  joined  them  in  a  few  moments,  and  great  was  his  amaze 
ment,  as  he  approached,  when  he  saw  the  Bishop  seated  by  tiro 
side  of  his  wife.  The  old  man  rose,  and  received  his  grandson 
with  a  happy  mixture  of  the  freedom  belonging  to  his  advanced 
years  and  venerable  relationship,  and  the  deference  due  to  a  man 
of  Reuben's  ripe  age  and  eminent  position.  It  was  altogether  an 
interesting  and  striking  incident  of  domestic  life.  The  bew;'der- 
ment  of  the  Barsacs,  who  had  looked  upon  the  breach  as  incurable, 
and  had  treated  the  Medlicotts  as 'ill  as  possible,  to  make  them 
selves  agreeable  to  the  Bishop,  was  a  curious  part  of  the  scene  ; 
but  the  most  curious  of  all  was  the  mutual  introduction  of  the 
infant  prodigies.  The  Bishop  himself  put  Tom's  little  red  fist 
into  Chichester's  still  smaller  and  redder  one.  Tom  had  his 
other  hand  full  of  the  remains  of  Barsac's  bouquet,  which  he 
shared  most  good-humouredly  with  his  new  acquaintance. 

"  Generous  little  fellow,"  cried  Mrs.  Barsac. 

"  Hand  nine  diis  animosus  infans"  said  Reuben,  addressing 
himself  to  the  Bishop,  whom  the  quotation  greatly  pleased. 

"  To  whom  should  he  be  generous,  if  not  to  his  grand- 
nephew  ?"  said  the  chaplain. 

"  Very  true,"  said  the  old  man,  "that  never  occurred  to  me 
before  ;  that  is  the  relationship  between  the  urchins." 

The  laughter  was,  in  Homeric  phrase,  "  inextinguishable." 
The  Bishop  leaned  on  Reuben's  arm  all  the  way  back  to  his 
carriage.  Mr.  Barsac  was  as  attentive  to  Mrs.  Medlicott  as  if  she 
had  been  a  countess ;  and  that  very  night  a  card-of  invitation  to 
a  distant  dinner  at  Portland  Place  was  delivered  at  the  modest 
little  house  in  Piccadilly. 

They  were  now  in  the  Easter  recess. 

"  The  talking  period  of  the  session  is  happily  over,"  said  Mr. 
Medlicott  to  the  Bishop  on  the  day  he  dined  with  him,  "  we 
shall  now,  I  hope,  get  some  little  business  done  ;  I  have  several 
irons  in  the  fire  myself." 

"  Keep  the  hammer  going,"  replied  his  grandfather,  poking 
him  slily  under  the  midriff. 

"  Tliat's  the  true  plan,  sir,"  said  Reuben,  "  '  constant  strokes 
fell  great  oaks,'  as  poor  Richard  says." 

"  We  shall  meet  you  and  Mrs.  Medlicott  at  my  father's,  I 
hope,"  said  Mrs.  Wyndham. 


OK,  THE   COMING   MAN.  377 

Reuben  shook  his  head,  and  informed  Blanche  cf  a  resolution 
he  had  made  not  to  dine  out  again  for  the  remainder  of  the 
session. 

He  went  down  for  a  day  or  two  to  Chichoster  before  the 
House  re-assembled,  and  was  feted  by  his  constituents.  It  was 
in  his  speech  upon  that  occasion  (after  his  health  had  been  drunk 
with  all  the  honours)  that  he  made  use  of  Sir  Edward  Coke's 
curious  zoological  illustration,  in  his  Institutes,  of  the  talents  and 
virtues  indispensable  to  a  member  of  Parliament. 

"  I  agree,  sir,"  he  said,  addressing  Mr.  Cox,  who  was  in  the 
chair,  "  I  agree  with  that  illustrious  lawyer,  Sir  Edward  Coke, 
(with  whose  works  my  forensic  studies  necessarily  made  me  inti 
mately  acquainted),  that  every  member  of  the  House  of  Com 
mons  ought  to  have  certain  properties  of  that  noble  animal,  the 
elephant.  As  the  elephant,  in  the  first  place,  has  no  gall,  so 
should  the  representative  of  the  people  divest  himself  of  all  per 
sonal  animosities,  of  malice,  and  envy,  and  all  uncharitableness. 
Secondly,  he  should  resemble  the  elephant  in  the  quality  of  in 
flexibility,  upon  which  you  will  all  remember  what  Shakspeare 
says,  speaking  of  the  same  generous  quadruped,  that  '  he  has 
joints,  but  not  for  courtesy  ;  his  legs  are  legs  for  necessity,  not 
for  flexure.'  Sir,  I  trust  that  mine  will  never  deserve  any  other 
character.  I  shall  use  them  to  stand  upon  in  the  House,  not  for 
bowing  at  the  levee,  or  cringing  at  the  Treasury ;  it  would  ill 
become  me,  sir,  to  commend  my  own  legs,  but  I  may  be  per 
mitted  to  say  this  much  of  them,  that  they  are  legs  for  necessity, 
not  for  flexure.  I  wish  I  could  arrogate  to  myself  with  equal 
truth  the  third  elephantine  attribute  noticed  by  the  great  autho 
rity  I  am  quoting,  that  of  a  ripe  and  perfect  memory,  so  neces 
sary  in  the  public  councils,  to  prevent  dangers  to  come  by  the 
remembrances  of  fhe  perils  that  are  past.  lie  tells  us,  further, 
that  the  elephant  is  gregarious  and  sociable,  going  in  companies 
and  parties.  I  trust  you  will  always  find  me  an  elephant  in  this 
respect  also  ;  only  I  trust  I  shall  be  oftener  found,  gentlemen,  at 
such  tables  as  this,  meeting  my  constituents  in  the  spirit  of  inde 
pendent  a^d  constitutional  conviviality,  than  a  banqueter  at 
ministerial  white-bait  dinners,  or  a  guest  at  the  royal  table.  But, 
sir,  I  have  not  yet  done;  or,  rather,  sir,  Edward  Coke  is  not  yet 
done ;  he  reserves  to  the  last  (and  I  shall  imitate  him)  that  par 
ticular  virtue  of  this  noble  and  exemplary  quadruped,  which  dis 
tinguishes  him  from  all  the  brute  creation,  and-  exalts  him  to  a 
level  with  man  himself.  Sir,  the  elephant  is  the  philanthropist 


THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

of  the  animal  kingdom.  Ifomini  erranti  viam  ostcndit.  This 
property,  concludes  Coke,  and  I  think  you  will  conclud,  with 
him,  every  Parliament  man  ought  to  have.  Sir,  I  beg  to  pro 
pose  the  health  of  the  elephants  in  the  House  of  Commons,  and 
I  wish  they  were  a  larger  party  than  I  fear  they  are." 

This  elephant  speech  made  a  great  noise,  as  will  be  easily 
credited,  and  increased  the  speaker's  notoriety  vastly.  Unfor 
tunately  it  was  not  equally  effective  in  disposing  the  House  to 
receive  him  with  increased  resf>ect  or  gravity.  Never  did  such 
mountains  of  promise  bring  forth  such  mice  of  performance. 
Never  did  a  man  more  industriously  prepare  the  way  for  his 
own  ridicule,  discomfiture,  and  downfall. 

It  seems  hard  to  complain  of  a  legislator  for  legislating,  but 
law-making  may  be  overdone  like  everything  else,  from  the 
cooking  of  a  mutton-chop  upwards  ;  and  it  was  surely  the  height 
of  imprudence  in  Mr.  Medlicott,  on  the  strength  of  his  one 
speech  (which  was  not,  after  all,  of  the  best  parliamentary  pro 
mise),  to  move  for  leave  to  bring  in  seven  bills  at  one  sitting,  as 
he  did  upon  the  first  meeting  of  the  House.  There  was  a  speech, 
too,  upon  each  bill ;  seven  bills  and  seven  speeches.  When  the 
Speaker  called  on  him  a  third  time,  there  was  a  laugh ;  and  the 
laugh  grew  louder  and  louder  in  consequence  of  his  unhappily 
making  repeated  use  of  the  phrase.  "  while  he  was  on  his  legs ;" 
for  this  put  everybody  in  mind  of  his  speech  at  Chichester,  which 
had  appeared  that  morning  in  the  London  papers. 

"  His  legs  seem  inflexible,  indeed,"  said  one  of  the  secreta 
ries  to  his  neighbour  on  the  Treasury  bench,  "  I  think  he  will 
never  sit  down." 

The  laughing  and  coughing  increased  every  moment,  and 
made  Mr.  Medlicott  so  indignant,  that  instead  of  immediately 
condensing  his  observations,  in  wise  submission  to  the  manifest 
feeling  of  the  House,  he  actually  expanded  them  in  order  to  pun 
ish  the  men  who  interrupted  him.  The  consequence  was,  that 
when  he  rose  for  the  seventh  time,  there  was  a  general  outcry  ; 
a  number  of  members  rushed  out  into  the  lobby,  while  those 
who  remained,  with  their  united  clamours,  effectually  drowned 
the  voice  of  the  speaker,  and  compelled  him  to  do  at  last  what 
a  man  of  common  sense  would  have  done  an  kour  before. 

The  next  day  two  caricatures  of  the  member  for  Chichester 
appeared  in  all  the  print-shops.  In  one  he  was  represented  as  an 
elephant,  with  a  castle  on  his  back  containing  the  seven  bills. 
In  the  other  he  was  portrayed  as  Thor  with  his  tremendous 


OR,  'JJPE   COMING  MAN.  379 


sledge,  thumping  the  table  of  the  House,  and  scaring  the  Treas 
ury  benches  from  their,  propriety. 

It  wouid  be  absurd  to  suppose  that  these  things  did  not  seriv 
ousiy  annoy  him.  They  increased  his  notoriety,  however,  and 
that  was  always  a  source  of  comfort  to  Mr.  Medlicott.  His  friends 
certainly  felt  more  acutely  than  he  did,  not  only  now,  but  upon 
many  similar  occasions  afterwards,  the  "  distressful  strokes  " 
which  his  public  character  suffered  at  this  period  frbm  the 
journalists,  caricaturists,  and  epigrammatists  of  the  day.  But 
there  was  another  explanation  of  the  calmness  with  which  he 
bore  himself  through  the  laugh  of  the  House  and  the  ridicule 
that  followed  it  out  of  doors.  He  had  the  platform  always  to 
fall  back  on,  to  retrieve  himself  in  his  own  esteem  ;  there  he  was 
certain  to  wield  his  hammer  with  success,  there  he  never  failed  to 
be  received  and  admired  not  only  as  an  elephant,  but  as  a  lion 
of  the  first  magnitude.  Accordingly,  every  repulse  he  experi 
enced  in  St.  Stephen's  chapel  involved  him  still  deeper  with  tho 
various  agitators  and  enthusiasts  he  was  leagued  with  ;  and  as 
he  naturally  availed  himself  of  his  benign  audiences  to  revenge 
himself  upon  those  that  were  unpropitious,  by  imputing  the  treat 
ment  he  met  with  to  personal  motives,  he  always  returned  to  the 
House  with  diminished  chances  of  being  heard  with  attention. 

In  short,  during  the  three  sessions  that  Mr.  Medlicott  repre 
sented  his  native  town  in  Parliament,  he  literally  did  nothing 
but  present  monster  petitions,  move  for  masses  of  papers  (des 
tined  to  be  printed,  but  .never  read),  and  delay  the  business  of 
legislation  by  repeated  abortive  attempts  to  speak.  His  obsti 
nacy  was  extraordinary  ;  he  might  often  have  been  listened  to, 
if  he  haul  not  been  studiously  prolix,  or  if  he  had  been  contented 
to  rise  between  seven  and  ten  o'clock,  when  many  a  speech  is  re 
ceived  with  patience,  that  nobody  would  brook  at  a  later  and 
busier  hour;  but  Mr.  Medlicott  disdained  to  subject  his  genius  to 
any  law  or  restraint  whatsoever,  and  soon  began  to  incline  his  ear 
to  the  melodious  flatterers  who  told  him  that  he  failed  in  Parlia 
ment  as  he  had  failed  in  divinity,  and  failed  at  the  bar,  expressly 
because  his  talents  were  too  various  and  too  splendid. 

According  to  these  judges,  the  world  did  not  contain  an  arena 
sufficiently  spacious,  or  a  stage  sufficiently  conspicuous,  for  the 
cxeivise  and  display  of  Mr.  Medlicott's  powers. 

His  parliamentary  break-down  was  the  more  remarkable  in 
the  eyes  of  his  friends,  when  they  contrasted  it  with  the  compar 
ative  success  of  the  member  for  Blarney.  Doctor  Pigwidgeon 


380  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

showed  more  wit  in  the  senate  than  he  had  ever  showr  out  of  it, 
for,  finding  that  he  could  amuse  the  house  for  twenty  minutes 
with  a  species  of  buffoonery  he  possessed, "he  aimed  at  nothing 
further,  and  made  it  a  rule  to  sit  down  on  the  first  hint  that  he 
had  said  enough.  Besides,  he  soon  discovered  that  much  as  his 
constituents  loved  eloquence,  they  loved  places  more,  and  having 
also  fixed  his  own  eye  on  a  good  appointment  abroad,  he  was 
much  more  anxious  on  all  occasions  to  be  present  at  the  division 
than  to  shine  in  the  debate. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MR.    MEDLICOTT   VISITS   THE   NEW    WORLD. 

TOWARDS  the  close  of  the  third  year  of  Mr.  Medlicott's  parlia 
mentary  life,  still  confident  in  himself,  and  enjoying  the  undi- 
minished  idolatry  of  his  mother  and  his  aunt,  his  admirers  in 
Chisliester,  and  his  Quaker  followers  in  London,  after  making  an 
oratorical  tour  of  England  (during  which  the  House  of  Commons 
and  the  newspapers  were  abused  most  unsparingly)  he  suddenly 
announced  his  intention  to  visit  the  United  States  (an  old  design 
of  his),  and  left  it  to  his  constituents  to  decide  whether  they 
.would  or  would  not  require  the  surrender  of  his  seat.  There 
was  a  stormy  discussion  at  Chichester  on  the  subject,  resulting 
in  the  adoption,  by  a  considerable  majority  of  electors,  of  an  ad 
dress,  highly  complimentary  in  its  language,  but  ending  in  an 
unambiguous  expression  of  opinion  in  favour  of  his  resignation. 
In  fact,  he  had  satisfied  neither  his  honest  friends  nor  his  inter 
ested  supporters:  the  foriner  he  had  displeased  by  showing  too 
little  parliamentary  talent ;  the  latter  offended  by  displaying  too 
much  parliamentary  virtue.  At  the  same  time,  that  gentleness 
of  manners  and  amiableness  of  disposition,  which  distinguished 
him  through  life,  inclined  those  who  took  the  sternest  -view  of 
the  case  to  deal  as  tenderly  with  him  as  possible ;  and,  to  soften 
the  rigour  of  the  sentence,  they  voted  him  a  superb  piece  of  plate, 
and  begged  to  have  his  bust,  in  marble  or  bronze,  to  adorn  the 
town-hall. 

His  parents,  particularly  his  mother,  were  deeply  afflicted  at 
his  resolution  to  expatriate  himself,  even  for  a  season  ;  and  they 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  381 

prevailed  on  the  Bishop  to  exert  whatever  influence  he  possessed 
over  him  to  detain  him  at  home,  and  induce  him  either  to  return 
to  the  bar,  or  strike  out  some  other  path  to  fame  and  fortune. 
The  Bishop,  growing  still  mellower  as  his  years  multiplied,  un 
dertook  this  task,  though  his  heart  was  not  much  in  it ;  but  to 
'no  purpose :  Reuben  persisted  in  his  intention  to  cross  the  ocean, 
and  make  what  he  called  a  general  survey  of  transatlantic  civili 
zation.  His  Quaker  friends  were  probably  the  secret  instigators 
of  this  step,  reckoning  with  the  utmost  assurance  upon  his  popu- 
jarity  and  success  in  the  United  States,  and  the  probability  of  his 
returning  to  England  with  such  an  accession  of  reputation  and 
self-reliance  as  would  bear  down  all  envy  and  overwhelm  all  op 
position. 

It  was  a  serious  question  whether  he  should,  or  should  not, 
take  his  wife  and  children  with  him  upon  tliis  wild-goose"  chase 
after  fame  in  America  ;  but  after  mature  deliberation  it  was  de 
cided  to  leave  them  behind  ;  and  Matthew  Cox  gave  them  his 
snug  country-house  for  a  residence,  the  cottage  occupied  by  old 
Hannah  Hopkins  being  now  much  too  small  for  a  family  so  large 
as  Reuben's.  By  this  arrangement,  also,  the  brood  of  little  Med- 
licotts  would  be  within  a  convenient  distance  of  their  grand 
mother,  the  Vicar's  wife,  who  would  be  sure  to  keep  poor  Mary's 
vulgar  common-sense  in  proper  subjection,  and  look  with  becom 
ing  anxiety  to  the  awakening  of  their  faculties  and  development 
of  their  organs. 

We  shall  not  accompany  Mr.  Medlicott  upon  this  romantic 
expedition,  but  will  tell  the  reader  who  the  squires  of  .his  body 
were.  Monsieur  Beauvoisin  attended  him  in  the  capacity  of  pri 
vate  secretary  ;  and  his  godson,  Reuben  Gosling,  having  paid 
attention  to  his  arithmetic  and  education  generally,  was  selected 
to  fill  another  office  about  his  person,  something  between  a  clerk 
and  a  valet.  Mr.  Medlicott  was  now  in  about  his  eight-and- 
thirtieth  year,  but  looked  younger,  owing  to  the  colour  of  his 
hair,  the  freshness  of  his  complexion,  and  the  elasticity  and  erect- 
ness  of  his  carriage,  from  which  you  could  not  have  inferred  that 
he  had  miscarried  so  lamentably  in  one  of  the  most  conspicuous 
positions  in  life.  There  is  the  less  reason  for  giving  an  account 
of  his  wanderings  in  the  New  World,  as  he  published  two  pon 
derous  octavo  volumes  (substantially  blue-books)  about  them  on 
his  return  ;  which,  if  the  work  is  not  out  of  print,  the  reader  may 
consult  if  he 'pleases.  It  is  quite  enough  to  relate  heft,  that  he 
not  only  talked  prodigiously  in  all  the  private  houses  to  which 


382  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

he  had  introductions  or  invitations,  but  delivered  elaborate  lectures 
wherever  he  went  upon  the  comparative  merits  of  English  and 
American  institutions,  civil  and  religious,  and  their  moral  and  in 
tellectual  results.  The  lecture  that  made  most  noise  was  one 
upon  the  eloquence  of  the  two  nations,  in  the  courst  of  which  he 
introduced  some  severe  strictures  upon  the  modern  taste  for  ora 
tory  at  Westminster,  which  he  supported  and  defended  by  quot 
ing  his  own  speeches,  and  renting  how  totally  they  had  failed. 
On  the  other  hand,  he  applauded,  and  did  so  most  conscien 
tiously,  the  then  prevailing  style  of  the  majority  of  the  public 
speakers  at  Washington  ;  for  his  voyage  was  antecedent  to  the 
adoption  in  Congress  of  the  celebrated  one-hour  rule,  which  im 
posed  such  heavy  restraint  upon  the  tongues  of  free-born  cit.zens. 
That  rule  was  just  beginning  to  be  talked  about  at  this  period, 
and  Mr.  Medlicott 'thought  it  his  duty  to  leave  behind  Inn.  in 
every  state  and  city  he  visited,  the  important  protest  of  a  m  in  of 
his  great  experience  against  its  justice  and  wisdom. 

Another  subject  upon  which  he  said  a  prodigious  deal  in 
rooms  of  all  sizes,  and  before  audiences  of  every  variety,  was  the 
abolition  of  slavery,  upon  which  he  may  be  said  to  have  had  a 
special  commission  to  hold  forth,  from  his  broad-brimmed  friends 
at  home.  He  discoursed  largely  on  this  exciting  topic  all  through 
the  New  England  States,  and  finally  announced  his  intention  to 
make  a  little  excursion  into  Virginia  and  the  Carolinas,  to  put 
the  question  in  its  true  light  to  the  southerns  themselves,  feeling 
that  the  planters  had  probably  never  had  the  opportunity  of 
hearing  it  properly  stated  and  discussed.  This  design  he  exe 
cuted  so  far  as  actually  to  cross  the  Virginian  frontier,  and  he 
was  on  the  point  of  commencing  his  proceedings  at  a  place  called 
New  Argos,  or  Mycenae,  when  he  was  waited  on  by  a  deputation 
of  tobacco-growers,  with  immense  sombreros  and  cart-whips  of 
proportionate  size,  who,  in  a  few  energetic  words,  completely 
changed  his  purpose,  and  convinced  him  of  the  prudence  of 
making  a  rapid  retreat  over  the  border.  \Vhen  he  returned  to 
Philadelphia,  he  addressed  an  earnest  letter  to  the  slave-holding 
states  in  general,  in  which  he  complained  that  the  rights  of  free 
discussion*  had  been  invaded  in  his  person,  and  counselled  them 
to  emancipate  their  negroes  without  delay,  as  he  was  firmly  re 
solved  never  to  slumber  or  sleep  until  they  did  so.  Of  this  letter 
there  is  not  the  shadow  of  a  ground  for  believing  that  any  of  the 
slave-hoklThg  states  ever  took  the  slightest  notice.  It  had  a 
great  run  in  Gracechurch-street,  however,  where  it  was  not  likely 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN.  383 

to  be  of  much  service  to  the  blaclcs  ;  and  so  had  another  tract 
of  Mr.  Medlicott's  upon  the  Mormonites — a  sect  to  which  he 
afterwards  owned  that  he  felt  at  one  time  a  serious  :nclination  to 
unite  himself. 

As  to  the  ambitious  book  he  published  on  his  return,  called 
"America  Displayed,"  it  was  a.  curious  and  not  very  judicious 
mixture  of  florid  descriptions  of  rivers  and  savannahs,  declama 
tory  chapters  on  liberty  and  education,  zoological  and  geological 
discussions,  and  statistical  tables  and  details,  in  the  accumulation 
of  which  his  industrious  godson  (aided  by  a  pair  of  scissors) 
made  himself  remarkably  useful.  Mr.  Medlicott  paid  particular 
attention,  wherever  he  travelled  in  the  States,  to  the  schools  arid 
the  prisons  ;  in  the  latter  of  which  establishments  he  witnessed, 
for  the  first  time,  the  operation  of  the  silent  system,  but  expressed 
no  desire  to  make  trial  of  its  benefits  in  his  own  person. 

His  travels  made  Mr.  Medlicott  more  self-confident  than  ever, 
and  his  loquacity  did  not  diminish,  it  will  easily  be  believed,  with 
the  augmentation  of  his  funds  of  discourse.  If  the  Rhine  or  the 
.Rhone  often  makes  men  over-talkative,  you  may  fancy  the  effects 
of  the  mighty  rivers  of  the  American  continent.  He  came  back 
to  England  with  all  his  foibles  magnified  on  the  scale  of  the  face 
of  nature  beyond  the  Atlantic.  His  conversation  now  flowed 
like  the  Mississippi,  spread  out  like  the  prairies,  and  was  often  as 
hard  to  penetrate  as  the  great  forests  of  the  new  world.  He 
never  was  so  great  a  lion  as  he  wa?  for  some  time  after  his  re 
turn  to  England.  Never  before  did  he  afford  the  eyes  of  friend 
Harvey  such  a  feast.  The  Quakers  now  flocked  about  him  in 
greater  numbers  than  ever,  and  his  connection  with  them  became 
closer  daily.  They  scarcely  left  him  time  to  visit  his  wife  and 
children,  or  look  after  his  few  private  affairs.  Teas  and  lectures 
were  the  order  of  the  day.  Philanthropists  of  all  sects  are  noto 
rious  consumers  of  con  go,  and  the  Quakers  exceed  all  other  reli 
gionists  in  the  love  of  lectures.  America  was  an  inexhaustible 
subject.  Mr.  Medlicott  having  lectured  the  Americans  on  Eng 
land,  now  reversed  -the  process,  and  lectured  the  English  on 
America.  He  lectured  in  London,  in  Liverpool,  in  Birmingham, 
in  Glasgow,  and  going  over  to  Dublin,  in  company  with  Harvey, 
he  lectured  there  also,  eclipsing  for  a  week  all  the  ordinary  lights 
of  the  Rotunda.  From  Dublin  he  proceeded  on  a  tour  to  Kil- 
larney,  from  thence  to  Connemara,  and  the  Giant's  Causeway, 
after  which  a  book  on  Ireland  was  a  matter  of  course  ;  and  a  re 
markable  book  it  was,  for  it  settled  every  Irish  question,  probed 


334  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

the  difficulties  of  Irish  government  to  the  bottom,  ancHeft  nothing 
to  be  desired  but  that  the  writer  should  be  made  Chief  Secretary, 
to  set  everything  to  rights  by  a  short  and  simple  Act  of  Parliament. 

Mr.  Medlicott,  when  in  Dublin,  honoured  the  lord-lieutenant 
of  the  day  by  attending  his  levee.  The  first  person  he  met  in 
the  antechamber  was  Dr.  Pigwidgeon  ;  they  conversed  as  if  they 
had  never  been  opposed,  and  the  Doctor  informed  Reuben  that 
he  had  just  been  appointed  governor  of  some  happy  island  be 
longing  to  the  British  Crown,  and  was  on  the  point  of  resigning 
the  borough  of  Blarney.  While  they  were  talking,  who  should 
come  up,  bustling  through  the  crowd  of  sycophants,  and  place- 
hunters,  but  the  foremost  man  in  Ireland  at  that  period,  the 
leader  of  the  Catholic  body,  and  as  great  a  borough-monger  in 
his  way  as  any  duke  in  Englandv  He  was  already  acquainted 
with  Mr.  Medlicott,  shook  him  cordially  by  the  hand,  was  pro 
fuse  of  compliments  upon  the  work  on  America,  and  finally  in 
vited  him  to  dine  that  day,  to  meet  Governor  Pigwidgeon  and 
other  eminent  public  characters. 

The  dinner  proved  eventful,  for  it  was  arranged  before  the 
evening  was  over  that  Mr.  Medlicott  should  try  his  luck  again  in 
the  House  of  Commons,  coming  in  for  Blarney,  as  successor  to 
the  Doctor.  It  would  only  cost  a  thousand  pounds  or  there 
abouts  ;  but  it  was  indispensable  that  the  new  candidate  should 
start  at  once  and  show  himself  iu.  the  first  instance  at  the  Corn 
Exchange. 

On  that  conspicuous  stage,  accordingly,  Mi.  Medlicott  the 
very  next  day  played  the  mountebank  to  a  large  and  an  admir 
ing  audience.  He  praised  the  great  Irish  leader,  and  the  great 
Irish  leader  praised  him.  Mr.  Medlicott  was  only  too  happy  and 
too  proud  to  serve  under  the  banner  of  so  distinguished  a  chief, 
and  that  distinguished  chief,  upon  his  part,  was  equally  ready  to 
accept  Mr.  Medlicott  for  his  captain. 

These  mutual  flatteries  having  been  exchanged  amidst  vocif 
erous  applause  from  the  unwashed  artificers  of  Dublin,  our  enter 
prising  hero  sent  his  address  to  the  newspapers,  and  embarked 
immediately  for  England,  sedulously  attended  by  his  new  patron 
to  the  water-side. 

The  report  of  this  most  unexpected  Irish  freak,  having  pre 
ceded  him  to  Salisbury  and  Chichester,  threw  the  old  Bishop 
into  a  short  paroxysm  of  indignation,  vexed  the  Vicar  considera 
bly,  and  gratified  only  the  weakest  of  his  friends,  including  that 
fondest  and  vainest  of  her  sex,  his  mother. 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  385 

"  Again  !"  cried  the  Vicar  ;  "  after  burning  his  fingers  once, 
I  was  in  hopes  he  would  not  be  so  rash  for  the  future." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Mr.  Cox,  after  a  moment's  reflection, 
"  I  often  hear  it  said  that  such  a  one,  having  once  burned  his 
fingers,  will  not  be  apt  to  burn  them  again.  That  is  not  my 
view  of  things.  As  far  as  my  observation  goes,  the  great  mis 
takes  of  life  are  rarely  committed  only  once.  When  I  see  a  man 
make  one  imprudent  marriage,  I  think  it  the  more  probable  he 
will  make  another.  If  a  man  embarrasses  himself  by  building  a 
house,  I  don't  expect  him  to  give  up  building  as  soon  as  he  is 
out  of  his  difficulties  ;  on  the  contrary,  1 1  m  inclined  to  predict 
he  will  soon  be  in  the  mortar  again.'' 


CHAPTER  V. 

PEACE  PROVES  MOEE  FATAL  THAN  WAE. 

MR.  MEDLICOTT  is  now  in  the  House  again,  but  he  treats  the 
House  with  pretty  much  the  same  contempt  that  he  formerly 
treated  the  University  ;  writes  M.  P.  after  his  name,  enjoys  the  eclat 
and  the  precedence  which  the  position  brings  with  it,  but  only 
meditates  appearing  upon  remarkable  occasions,  like  a  Cincinna- 
tus  to  save  his  country,  or  a  comet  to  make  her  tremble.  His 
family,  waxing  larger  at  the  rate  of  four  new  comers  every  three 
years,  continued  to  reside  in  the  house  called  the  snuff-box,  which 
they  inhabited  by  Mr.  Cox's  never-ceasing  kindness ;  Reuben  lived 
there  himself  nearly  as  much  as  he  did  in  London  ;  and  not  be 
ing  content  with  the  enterprising  outlay  of  a  thousand  pounds 
upon  the  representation  of  Blarney,  he  speculated  now  a  little  in 
agriculture,  and  bought  a  farm  of  twenty  acres  adjoining  his  rural 
abode,  which,  with  the  help  of  the  Frenchman  and  his  godson, 
he  hoped  to  cultivate  with  credit  and  advantage. 

There  never, was  anything  clearer  on  paper  than  the  profits 
of  this  farm  ;  but  far  from  realising  his  anticipations,  he  soon 
found  that  it  materially  diminished  his  income,  and  that  it  was  ab 
solutely  necessary  to  have  some  other  iron  in  the  fire.  His>wife 
being  passionately  fond  of  horticulture,  it  occurred  to  him  to  try 
the  experiment  of  gardening  upon  a  great  scale  :  she  would  con 
duct  the  floral  dapartment ;  ae  himself  would  manage  the  other 
branches,  or  his  secretary  and  cleric  under  his  Control  and  supe* 
17 


386  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

mtenclence.  For  the  disposal  of  his  flowers  and  vegetables,  he 
opened  negotiations  with  the  most  extensive,  green-grocers  of 
Covent  Garden,  and  he  inaugurated  the  speculation  with  a  lec 
ture  upon  the  history  and  philosophy  of  gardens,  which  was  at 
tended  by  all  the  nobility  and  gentry  within  twenty  miles  of  Chi- 
chester. 

The  spot  originally  combined  flower-garden  with  kitchen- 
garden  ;  here  a  cherry-tree,  there  an  acacia ;  the  violets  creeping 
amongst  the  lettuces,  and  the  roses  and  gooseberries  seeming  to 
grow  upon  the  same  bushes.  Never  did  old  Matthew  sleep  so 
soundly  as  in  the  little  dimity-curtained  bedroom  overlooking  the 
cucumber-frame,  or  breakfast  with  such  appetite  as  in  the  sunny 
parlour  underneath  it,  enjoying  the  song  of  the  thrushes  as  much 
as  his  chocolate,  and  the  smell  of  the  flowers  in  their  season  more 
than  even  the  .odour  of  the  titillating  dust  by  which  he  had  madt 
his  fortune.  Tin  re  was,  however,  something  perhaps  of  the  love 
of  property  in  the  gratification  which  these  snatches  of  rustic  ex 
istence  gave  him,  for  he  was  fond  of  thjnking,  when  the  whiffs  ol 
sweetness  came  upon  the  wind,  that'  they  came  from  his  own 
roses ;  and  when  the  various  birds  were  chirping,  carolling,  and 
cooing  round  about  him,  Ijp  was  wont  to  distinguish  what  he 
called  his  own  robins,  or  his  own  doves,  from  the  cuckoo  or  the 
wood-pigeon  that  haunted  the  neighbouring  grove,  and  were  no 
tenants  of  his. 

It  was,  indeed,  a  very  pretty  spot,  and  could  not  have  been 
much  more  still  had  it  been  forty  miles  from  any  city,  town,  or 
borough.  The  nearest  approach  to  hubbub  ever  heard  there, 
was  that  of  a  rookery  in  an^idjoining  wood  ;  or,  if  the  wind  was 
in  a  particular  point,  when  the  church-bells  of  the  city  rang  out 
together  upon  any  great  occasion  of  civil  or  religious  joy. 

It  was  very  good  in  Mr.  Cox  to  surrender  this  place  r>s  he 
now  did  to  Mr.  Medlicott's  use,  not  even  reserving  for  himself  the 
room  that  overlooked  the  cucumbers.  Reuben  now  passed  many 
of  his  days  here,  sometimes  with  his  flageolet  cheering  his  la 
bourers,  sometimes  with  his  hoe  in  his  hand,  earthing  his  mar 
row-fats,  while  perhaps  he  meditated  a  speech  or  an  enterprise, 
grafting  the  cares  of  the  statesman  upon  the  occupations  of  the 
farmer  and  the  gardener.  The  Vicar,  though  growing  unwieldy. 
was  his  grand  vizier  upon  all  horticultural  questions,  though  no 
man  saw  more  .-learly  than  he  tiki  the  wide  diilorence  bet^. ,^-n 
gardening  for  amusement  and  gardening  for  profit.  His  lather, 
moreover,  was  no  visionary  even  in  matters  of  roses  and 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  887 

berries.  He  was  for  gardening  very  much  in  the  good  old  Eng 
lish  way.  Reuben  was  a  transcendental  gardener,  and  among 
other  extraordinary  notions,  he  conceived  the  idea  of  cultivating 
certain  species  of  flowering  plants  on  the  top  of  the  house.  For 
this  purpose  he  went  to  the  considerable  expense  of  a  new  roof, 
with  a  very  gentle  slope  to  the  south,  which  he  then  covered  with 
a  coating  of  soil  of  what  he  considered  sufficient  thickness  and 
the  proper  composition  for  his  purposes.  Mr.  Cox  had  a  private 
opinion  that  as  the  house  was  his,  he  ought  to  have  been  consnlt- 
ed  before  it  was  remodelled  for  so  odd  a  purpose  ;  and  both  he 
and  the  Vicar  suggested  the  possibility  of  the  roof  not  proving 
strong  enough  to  support  the  weight  of  the  beds  imposed  on  it, 
particularly  as  there  was  also  a  large  leaden  tank  for  water,  not 
to  speak  of  the  occasional  saturation  of  the  earth  with  rain,  and 
the,  corresponding  "increase  of  strain  upon  the  rafters.  Mr.  Med- 
licott,  however,  was  confident  all  was  perfectly  secure ;  he  had 
not  quite  forgotten,  he  said,  with  an  air  of  assumption,  the  mathe 
matics  he  had  read  at  Cambridge,  and  the  strength  of  materials 
and  doctrine  of  vertical  pressure  had  been  among  the  subjects  to 
•  which  his  attention  had  there  been  directed.  Upon  this,  the. 
Vicar  and  the  landlord  drew  in  their  horns  and  said  no  more, 
though  the  latter  continued  to  harbour  an  unpleasant  apprehen 
sion  that  the  system  of  house-top  gardening  would  break  down 
sooner  or  later,  with  considerable  injury  to  his  property,  if  not 
more  unpleasant  consequences. 

The  life  Mr.  Medlicott  led  here,  although  eccentric,  had  a 
great  many  domestic  comforts  and  social  enjoyments.  The  place 
was  picturesque ;  the  operations  going  on  had  the  attractions  that 
rural  operations  always  have  ;  he  had  brought  his  library  down  ; 
he  was  in  the  bosom  of  his  family;  some  of  his  oldest  associates 
were  in  his  neighbourhood ;  upon  the  whole,  except  that  his  ex 
chequer  was  low,  and  likely  to  be  lower  (which  was,  to  be  sure, 
a  drawback),  his  position  was  by  no  means  as  unenviable  as  it 
was  strange.  s 

His  wife,  used  to  the  country,  and  loving  it,  was  many  de 
grees  a  happier  creature  now,  than  she  had  been  in  her  elegant 
little  mansion  in  London.  Now  she  was  seldom  daunted  by 
moustache,  or  overawed  by  big-wigs.  Moreover  she  was  re 
united  to  her  mother,  from  whom  it  was  marvellous  how  she 
ever  tore  herself.  She  was  just  such  a  comfort  and  a  treasure  to 
Reuben,  as  Mr.  Cox  had  found  in  another  member  of  the  same 
tligious  community.  Wherever  Mary  lived,  her  house  shone 


388  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

like  a  mirror,  both  within  and  without.  Her  kitchen  was 
always  a  place  to  dine  in*  all  her  domestic  arrangements  were 
neatness  itself.  The  younger  Mrs.  Medlicott  was  at  this  time 
very  generally  admired  :  the  consciousness  of  being  the  spouse  of 
so  distinguished  a  husband,  communicated  a  dignity  to  her  de 
portment  ;  while  her  anxieties  about  his  fame  and  prospects,  as 
well  as  about  her  children,  substituted  an  air  of  seriousness,  almost 
of  melancholy,  for  the  excess  of  mirthfulness  that  formerly  dis 
tinguished  her.  Both  changes  seemed  to  become  her.  She 
retained  much  of  her  primitive  simplicity  of  costume,  but  its 
simplicity  suited  a  style  of  beauty  which  had  rather  a  tendency 
to  the  florid  and  exuberant,  and  Reuben  took  care  to  make  up 
for  the  sobriety  of  the  hues  by  the  richness  of  the  texture  of  her 
garments.  As  he  was  fond,  however,  of  bright  colours  when  pic- 
torially  combined,  particularly  in  female  dress,  since  he  could«ot 
please  his  eye  with  them  in  that  of  his  wife,  he  made  himself 
compensation  in  the  attire  of  two  maidens  who  had  been  for 
some  time  in  his  service,  and  who  opened  his  door  and  attended 
his  table  in  gay  boddices  and  petticoats,  and  ribbons  of  many  a 
bright  tint.  Reuben's  rural  entertainments  were  generally  more ' 
successful  than  his  dinners  in  Piccadilly ;  and  one  of  the  circum 
stances  that  made  them  more  agreeable  was  the  absence  of 
powdered  footmen  and  black  boys,  and  the  substitution  of  those 
smiling  girls,  who  glided  and  hovered  about  your  chair,  nimble 
as  Hebe  in  handing  a  glass,  and  neat-handed  as  Fhyllis  at  dress 
ing  a  salad. 

One  of  Mr.  Medlicott's  many  amiable  qualities  was  his  vivid 
remembrance  of  old  scenes  and  old  acquaintanceships ;  of  every 
little  tie,  however  slight,  that  had  once  connected  him  with  any 
one  either  in  business  or  in  pleasure.  About  a  year  after  his 
union  with  Mary  Hopkins,  they  had  been  prevailed  on  by  Mrs. 
Wyndham  to  spend  a  short  time  with  her  at  Westbury,  where 
she  occasionally  went  to  manage  matters,  unaccompanied  by  the 
Bishop.  There  Reuben  saw  many  a  face  he  had  formerly  been 
familiar  with ;  and  among  others,  very  little  impaired  by  time, 
were  those  of  Dorothy  the  gardener's  daughter,  and  Jenny  the 
maid  of  the  dairy,  both  looking  out  for  services.  Mrs/- Wyndharn 
gave  them  such  excellent  characters,  that  Mary  Medlicott  carried 
them  away  with  her  back  to  town,  a~nd  they  had  lived  with  her 
ever  since,  fully  answering  the  promises  made  for  them. 

Mr.  Primrose  once  amused  himself  by  drawing  a  parallel,  in 
the  manner  of  Plutarch,  between  these  two  equally  useful  and 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN".  889 

ornamental  members  of  Mr.  Medlicott's  establishment.  Dorothy 
was  a  Devonshire  lass,  born  in  the  orchards  :  Jenny  a  Welch- 
woman  ;  her  rude  forefathers  were  goatherds  on  week-days  and 
Jumpers  on  Sundays.  Jenny  was  red-and-white  :  Dorothy  was  all 
red.  Jenny  was  rather  tall  than  short :  Lorothy  rather  short 
than  tall.  The  eyes  of  the  Devon  lass  were  blue :  those  o! 
the  Welch  maiden  hazel.  Dorothy  liked  work  well,  but  diver 
sion  better :  Jenny  seemed' as  happy  at  work  as*she  could  possi 
bly  be  at  anything.  Dorothy  wore  pink  boddices  and  blue 
petticoats:  Jenny  wore  the  same  hues  in  the  opposite  order. 
Some  people  fancied  Dorothy  more  than  Jenny  :  some,  Jenny 
more  than  Dorothy.  Both  were  good-humoured  and  in  good 
case,  and  looked  particularly  well  of  a  morning  whitening  the 
steps  of  Reuben  Medlicott's  door. 

It  is  possible*  that  if  Mr.  Medlicott  had  been  left  to  himself, 
or  let  alone,  he  would  have  devoted  himself  more  heartily  and 
thoroughly  than  he  did  to  his  original  kind  of  life,  which  had 
indeed  many  fascinations  for  him.  It  did  not  even  want  the 
charm  of  notoriety,  for  he  contrived  to  make  his  undertakings 
well  known  to  the  public  not  only  by  his  lectures,  but  by  papers 
in  the  "  Gardener's  Journal,"  and  by  extensive  correspondence 
with  the  most  celebrated  horticulturists  in  the  kingdom.  But 
the  more  ambitious  of  his  friends  and  relatives  had  no  notion  of 
permitting  a  Pitt  to  sink  into  a  Paxton.  Harvey  was  wretched 
when  Mr.  Medlicott  was  out  of  his  sight  more  than  a  week.  Dr. 
Page  wrote  him  short  energetic  letters,  treating  his  cabbages 
with  sovereign  contempt.  It  was  with  difficulty  Mrs.  Primrose 
was  restrained  by  her  husband  from  sending  him  reproachful  and 
stimulating  letters  ;  while  a  certain  blue  demon,  in  the  form  of  a 
tall  matron,  with  spectacles  of  the  same  hue,  was  always  at  his 
elbow  leading  him  into  temptation,  and  tempting  him  to  commit 
the  very  sin,  of  all  others,  which  led  the  holy  angels  astray. 

But  no  doubt  there  was  also  that  within  his  own  breast 
which  kept  continually  reminding  him  that  his  mission  was  not 
yet  fulfilled ;  there  was  always  the 

"  Neacia  virtus  stare  loco," 

and  even  if  that  voice  had  been  mute,  and  that  principle 
dormant,  the  occasional  calls  of  the  House,  and  injunctions 
of  Mr.  Speaker,  would  of  themselves  have  been  enough  to  give 
him  a  fillip. 


390  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ] 

As  member  for  Blarney  he  utterly  failed  to  give  satisfaction, 
lie  bad  consented  to  accept  a  jointsbip  in  the  tail  of  the  Liberator, 
but  he  performed  as  inefficiently  as  possible  the  duties  of  that 
office ;  forgot  entirely  that  he  was  not  an  independant  member, 
and  absented  himself  from  important  divisions  in  defiance  of 
priests  and  demagogues.  The  consequence  was,  that  the  power 
that  brought  him  in  had  already  threatened  to  turn  him  out, 
and  angry  letters'  had  passed  between  him  and  the  Irish  Cleon, 
in  which  there  was  no  question  but  that  Mr.  Medlicott  got  the 
worst  of  it. 

In  the  hands  of  the  Quakers  he  was  always  more  pliable. 
Yielding  to  their  earnest  and  united  solicitations,  he  now  promised 
to  move  a  series  of  resolutions,  with  a  view  to  pledge  the  House 
to  the  principles  of  the  Peace  Society.  The  very  outline  he- gave 
of  the  propositions  he  intended  to  lay  down  produced  not  a  little 
amusement.  When  the  time  was  near  at  hand  for  making  his 
motion,  it  was  found  to  clash  with  arrangements  for  a  debate 
upon  a  government  measure  of  the  greatest  urgency.  Mr.  Med 
licott  refused  to  give  way.  His  friend  Winning,  now  Solicitor- 
General,  begged  him  to  postpone  it  as  a  personal  favour,  but  the 
influence  of  friend  Harvey  was  too  strong.  Reuben,  in  fact, 
wanted  the  moral  courage  to  do  what  his  natural  sense  of  de 
corum  prompted.  On  the  morning  of  the  day  fixed,  out  came 
the  Times  with  a  thunderer  of  the  justest  severity,  launched  at 
the  peace-mongers  and  their  Coryphaeus.  The  old  caricatures 
appeared  in  the  shop-windows.  Tlior  and  the  elephant  were 
once  more  in  every  man's  mouth,  and  under  these  propitious  cir 
cumstances  Mr.  Medlicott  rose  to  make  a  six  hours'  speech  upon 
a  question  almost  too  puerile  for  discussion  in  a  debating  society. 
The  result  need  hardly  be  stated.  Never  did  the  folly  of  an  in 
dividual  bring  down^uch  speedy  and  crushing  retribution  upon 
his  head.  The  smile  grew  into  the  laugh,  the  laugh  changed  to 
the  cough,  the  cough  passed  into  the  groan,  the  groan  rose  and 
swelled  into  the  shout — then  laugh,  cough,  groan,  shout,  and  all 
conceivable  modes  of  expressing  the  determination  of  an  assembly 
not  to  tolerate  a  speaker,  were  combined  with  a  storm  of  noises 
that  was  fearful  to  hear.  Long  before  the  orator,  who  was  as 
stubborn  as  he  was  rash,  gave  up  the  contest,  his  friend  Winning 
left  the  house,  so  painful  was  it  to  him.  to  witness  the  prostration 
of  his  old  friend  and  schoolfellow. 

Nor  even  with  this  amount  of  castigation  did  the  unfortunate 
member  for  Blarney  escape  ipon  this  occasion ;  for  the  minister, 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN.  391 

whose  important  motion  had  been  kept  waking  during  this  sad 
waste  of  public  time,  thought  it  his  duty  to  make  the  strongest 
remark-  upon  the  svstem  of  persecuting  the  House  with  frivolous 
and  vexatious  declamation. 

•"The  honourable  member,"  he  said,  "makes  peace  more 
formidable  than  war/  He  and  the  wild  enthusiasts  he  represents 
lead  us  seriously  to  doubt  whether  peace  is  indeed  so  great  a 
blessing  as  we  have  hitherto  imagined  it;  we  almost  long  for  the 
roar  of  ordnance  to  silence  this  insufferable  tongue-battery. 
We  are  told  of  the  horrors  of  war,  but  at  the  present  moment, 
after  what  we  have  witnessed  to-night,  I  think  the  House  has  a 
^nuch  clearer  idea  of  the  horrors  of  peace.  I  will  not  call  the 
honourable  member  an  enemy  to  his  country,  but  I  will  say  that 
he  has  declared  and  levied  peace  against  her.  We  shall  hence 
forward  associate  peace  with  his  harangues,  and  fly  to  the  can 
non's  mouth  to  escape  from  his.  What  are  the  toils  and  troubles 
of  war,  of  which  the  poets  say  so  much,  compared  to  the  toil 
and  trouble  of  sitting  on  these  benches,  condemned  to  the  alter 
native  of  being  deafened  either  by  the  honourable  member  him 
self,  or  the  overwhelming  majority  of  this  House,  determined, 
and  properly  determined,  not  to  hear  him?  I  heartily  congratu 
late  the  House  upon  having  finally  wrested  the  olive-branch  fron 
the  honourable  gentleman's  hands,  for  a  more  formidable  instru 
ment  for  the  dispatch  of  public  business,  in  tlie  fatal  sense  of  that 
word,  \vas  never  wielded  in  this  or  any  other  country." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

IX    WHICH    FORTUNE    PROMISES    TO    CO^fEXSATE   TDK    VIOAR    FOE    HER 
TREATMENT    OF   IIIS   SOX. 

A  THIRD  caricature  of  Mr.  Medlicott  appeared  the  following  day, 
representing  him  thrashing  the  Ministry  with  a  huge  olive-branch, 
lie  bought  the  engraving  himself,  and  taking  it  down  with  him 
to  Chiciiester,  hung  it  on  the  walls  of  his  breakfast-parlour,  which 
had  already  (in  the  same  spirit  of  bravado  and  contempt  for 
public  opinion),  been  decorated  with  the  previous 'illustrations  of 
his  career  in  the  senate.  However,  he  did  little  or  nothing  in 
parliament  after  this ;  though  the  same  obstinacy  which  would 


392  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  | 

not  allow  him  to  sit  down  when  the  House  ordered  him  t%  do  so 
in  a  voice  of  thunder,  led  him  to  retain  his  seat  to  the  last,  in 
defiance  of  the  loudest  complaints  from  his  constituents. 

Probably  few  remained  now  of  the  once  numerous  band  of 
believers  in  his. genius,  who  expected  great  exploits  in  statesman 
ship  from  him.  Perhaps  his  mother,  perhaps  friend  Harvey,  still 
hoped  against  hope  ;  but  if  they  did,  they  must  have  been  almost 
the  only  people  who  did  so.  It  was  still  possible,  of  course,  that 
he  had  not  hit  upon  the  true  sphere  for  his  abilities.  All  the 
paths  to  eminence  had  not  yet  been  explored ;  there  were  still 
roads  to  fame  and  fortune  remaining  to  be  travelled. 

He  was  forty  :  a  serious  age ;  too  late  to  become  a  physician,  • 
the  only  learned  profession  he  had  not  yet  turned  his  mind  to 
The  army  and  the  navy  were  out  of  the  question  for  an  apostle 
of  peace,  as  he  was.  It  was  easier  to  see  that  something  must 
be  done,  than  to  decide  what  the  something  was ;  for  it  was 
clear  he  could  not  live  like  a  gentleman,  and  bring  up  his  family 
respectably,  by  philosophical  gardening,  or  as  a  gentleman  farmer 
either. 

In  fact,  his  finances  were  much  embarrassed  just  now,  be 
tween  his  parliamentary  and  agricultural  speculations ;  very  little 
remained  of  the  handsome  legacy  Mr.  Broad  had  left  him  ;  it 
was  as  much  as  he  could  do  to  retain  his  godson  in  his  service ; 
and  it  was  a  great  relief  to  him  when  M.  Beauvoisin  volunteered 
to  leave  him,  for  the  purpose  of  going  on  the  stage  with  his  sis 
ter,  who  had  already  adopted  that  profession. 

In  this  uneasy  state  of  affairs,  an  incident  occurred  which 
promised  first  to  give  the  Vicar  a  lift  in  the  world,  but  ended  in 
doing  that  service  for  his  son,  who,  in  truth,  wanted  it  more. 

When.  Madame  Beauvoisin  became  an  actress  she  assumed 
the  name  of  Charmette,  and  by  that  name  she  was  already  ex 
tremely  popular  on  the  London  boards,  in  nearly  the  same  walk 
in  which  Vestris  was  so  brilliant  and  successful.  Mr.  Medlicott 
"went  to  London  expressly  to  see  her.  The  Wyndhams  were  in 
town,  and  the  Primroses  with  them,  of  course.  Reuben  secured 
a  private  box,  and  all  the  party,  except  the  Bishop,  went  to  see 
Charmette.  They  found  her  equal  to  her  reputation ;  she  sang 
with  great  spirit,  but  it  was  more  as  an  actress  she  shone,  than 
as  a  vocalist. 

"  And  who  is  Charmette  ?"  said  Mrs.  Wyndham,  observ 
ing  that  Reuben  talked  of  her  to  his  aunt  as  of  an  old  acquaint 
ance. 


OB,  THE   COMING  MAX.  393 

" Who  is  she !"•  repeated  Reuben;  "you  have  sure- y  heard 
of  her?" 

"  In  the  newspapers  only." 

"  Well,  you  knew  her  brother,  at  Hereford." 

«  No !" 

"Ah !  I  see  you  have' forgotten  a  certain  essay  by  an  old  ac 
quaintance  of  yours, — an  inexperienced  young  author, — an  essay 
on  shoemakers  of  genius  !  Now  I  have  brought  things  to  your 
memory." 

"Perfectly!"  said  Mrs.  Wyndham,  laughing;  "  I  shall  never 
forget  Adolphe  and  the  pink  satin  shoe,  and  his  theory  of  feet, 
which  I  suspect  was  more  yours  than  his." 

"Mdlle.  Charmette  is' his  sister." 

"  You  don't  tell  me  so !  I  trust  she  is  not  as  great  an  object 
of  interest  with  you  as  her  brother  was  formerly  ?" 

"  What  would  Mary  say  to  that  ?"  said  Mrs.  Primrose. 

The  curtain  now  rose  again,  and  when  it  fell,  the  second 
piece  was  over. 

"  What  is  the  hour  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Wyndharn,  anxiously. 

"  Half-past  ten,"  said  Reuben,  looking  at  his  watch. 

"  Oh,  dear !  and  the  House  will  be  up  early  to-night,  oil  ac 
count  of  the  ball  at  St.  James's." 

,The  Primroses  and  Mrs.  Wyndham  hurried  away,  but  Mr. 
Medlicott  remained  to  see  the  third  piece,  in  which  Charmette 
was  also  to  appear.  She  observed  him  in  the  course  of  her  per 
formance,  and  before  it  was  over  a  slip  of  paper,  with  a  few 
words  in  pencil,  was  put  into  his  hands,  inviting  him  to  supper 
at  her  lodgings,  to  meet  Henry  Winning  and  De  Tabley. 

Charmette  received  him  with  the  most  enchanting  cordialit}'. 
She  had  evidently  at  length  discovered  where  her  true  force  lay ; 
everything  about  her  was  brilliant,  her  apartments,  her  servants, 
her  table, — all  the  creation  of  her  own  energy  and  genius. 

Beside  Winning  and  De  Tabley,  she  expected  another  guest 
that  night,  who,  when  he  came,  proved  to  be  another  of  Reuben's 
old  friends,  Master  Turner,  still  fresh  and  as  well  able  to  enjoy 
life  as  ever.  The  supper  was  so  agreeable,  that  it  was  near  three 
o'clock  when  the  party  broke  up.  Master  Turner  and  Mr.  Med 
licott  went  away  together,  and  the  former,  laying  his  hand  on 
Reuben's  shoulder,  made  precisely  the  same  speech  he  had  made 
more  than  once  so  many  years  before.  "  The  Lord  Chancellor 
told  me  that  the  best  sermon  he  ever  leard  in  his  life  was  one 
your  father  preached  before  him  at  Chichester." 
17* 


394  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ' 

At  breakfast  the  next  morning  with  the  Primroses,  Reuben, 
after  making  a  full  confession  of  his  dissipated  proceedings  on 
the  previous  night,  mentioned  the  old  Master's  odd  repetition  oi 
what  the  head  of  the  law  had  said  ever  so  long  ago  about  his 
Other's  sermon. 

"  I  think,"  said  Mrs.  Primrose,  "  since  the  Chancellor  thought 
so  highly  of  your  father,  he  might  have  given  him  a  living  be 
fore  this,  or,  at  least,  done  something  for  his  family." 

"The  probability  is,"  said  Hyacinth,  "that  the  Chancellor 
never  thought  of  the  subject  since  he  made  the  remark  which 
Turner  so  absurdly  repeats  every  time  we  meet." 

"  He  might  surely  remind  the  Chancellor  of  the  circumstance," 
she  replied  ;  "  something  good  might  come  of  it." 

"But  the  misfortune  is,"  said  Reuben,  laughing,  "that  the 
sermon  was  one  of  my  grandfather's,  so  that  my  father  would 
hardly  think  of  accepting  a  living,  if  it  was  offered  him  under 
such  peculiar  circumstances." 

"That  would  be  rare  Quixotism,"  said  the  chaplain.  "Let 
us  ask  Mr.  Turner  to  dinner  at  all  events  on  an  early  day,"  said 
his  wife,  when  her  nephew  was  gone ;  "  he  is  intimate  with  the 
Chancellor,  and  I  think  he  would  say  a  word  in  season  to  oblige 
me." 

This  was  done.  The  Primroses  had  a  little  dinner  of  six  in 
a  few  days,  including  Master  Turner,  Winning,  and  Mrs.  Wynd- 
ham  ;  the  Bishop  happening  to  dine  at  Lambeth. 

"  With  the  greatest  pleasure  imaginable,"  said  the  Master; 
"  I'll  probably  have  an  opportunity  to-rnorrow,  after  divine  service 
at  the  Temple ;  the  subject  will  be  extremely  apropos  to  a  ser 
mon  from  Benson." 

A  week  elapsed,  and  nothing  was  heard  from  the  Master  in 
Chancery.  Mrs.  Primrose  then  had  a  note  from  him,  requesting 
her  to  send  him  the  Vicar's  address.  This  was  quite  enough  to 
set  the  hearts  of  his  friends  beating. 

The  Vicar  received  a  letter  with  the  great  seal  on  it ;  at  least 
if  it  was  not  the  actual  great  seal,  it  was  the  greatest  that  had 
ever  been  seen  in  the  parish  of  Underwood. 

After  puzzling  himself  to  write  a  becoming  answer,  he  gave 
it  up,  and  protested  it  would  save  him  time  and  trouble  to  go  up 
himself  to  London.  He  came  up  to  town  accordingly,  waited 
on  the  Chancellor  the  first  thing  he  did,  and  after  astonishing 
his  Lordship  by  declining  a  much  better  living  than  Underwood, 
he  entertained  him  by  a  narrative  of  the  circumstances  which 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  395 

led  to  his  preaching  a  sermon  of  Bishop  Wyndl  *rn's  compo 
sition. 

"  Mr.  Medlicott,"  said  the  Chancellor,  "  I  respect  your  frank 
ness  as  much  as  I  admire  your  humour ;  you  deserve  a  better 
living  for  your  sincerity  than  I  had  it  in  my  power  to  offer  you 
for  your  preaching,  but  this  is  the  best  thing  now  at  my  disposal, 
and  you  will  permit  me  to  press  you  to  withdraw  your  refusal, 
though  dictated  by  so  nice  a  sense  of  honour." 

"I  am  sensible  of  your  goodness,  my  lord,"  replied  the  Vi 
car;  "but  the  very  subject  of  the  sermon  I  had  the  honour  of 
preaching  before  you  so  many  years  ago  would  make  my  accept 
ance  of  your  generous  offer  an  act  of  peculiar  and  glaring  incon 
sistency." 

"  Let  me  see,"  said  the  Chancellor,  "  it  was  upon  the  nature 
and  office  of  conscience.  I  well  remember  a  fine  comparison  of 
an  accusing  conscience  to  the  statue  of  Juno  in  an  ancient  tem 
ple,  which  stared  full  upon  her  worshippers  wherever  they  stood, 
and  even  when  they  had  passed  by,  seemed  to  follow  them  with 
her  eye  still." 

"  Yes,  my  lord,"  said  the  Vicar,  "  my  life  would  not  be  worth 
a  week's  purchase  with  that  terrible  eye  upon  me,  as  it  would 
infallibly  be,  if  I  owed  my  preferment  to  another  man's  deserts." 

This  occurred  in  the  Chancellor's  chamber.  He  was  in  his 
robes,  on  the  point  of  stepping  into  court.  There  was  no  time 
for  further  discourse,  had  there  been  occasion  for  it.  The  Chan 
cellor  shook  his  hand  cordially,  and  in  a  few  minutes  was  ab 
sorbed  in  the  intricacies  of  a  case,  which  had  probably  already 
ruined  a  couple  of  generations. 

The  Vicar  went  from  the  Chancellor  direct  to  Pall  Mall, 
where  he  found  his  son  and  the  Primroses,  who  saw  him  enter 
with  astonishment,  but  immediately  guessed  the  reason  of  his 
journey  to  London. 

'•  What  are  you,  sir  ?"  cried  Hyacinth,  warmly  greeting  him. 

"  Vicar  of  Underwood." 

"  Then  you  have  not  yet  seen  the  Chancellor." 

The  Vicar  then  told  his  siory,  which  variously  affected  his 
audience ',  Hyacinth  was  exceedingly  displeased  at  what  he  con 
sidered  an  excess  of  scrupulosity :  Reuben  was  delighted  that 
his  father  had  done  exactly  what  he  dec'ared  he  would  have 
dune  himself:  Mrs.  Primrose  sometimes  Agreed  with  her  hus 
band,  sometimes  with  her  nephew  ;  sometimes  she  was  at  a  loss 
what  to  think  or  what  to  say,  a  natural  and  not  unusual  state  of 
the  feminine  understanding. 


396  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 


CHAPTER  VII. 

MR.   MEDLIOOTT   IN   OFFICE. 

"  BUT  surely,"  said  Mrs.  "Wyndham,  "  there  are  other  good 
things  besides  livings  in  the  Chancellor's  gift;  perhaps  while  his 
heart  is  warm,  he  might  be  induced  to  do  something  for  Reuben." 

" I  protest,"  said  Mrs.  Primrose;  "I'll  give  Master  Turner 
another  hint." 

"  Give  him  another  dinner,"  said  De  Tabley. 

Mrs.  Primrose  wrote  an  invitation  that  instant. 

"I  should  not  wonder,"  said  the  chaplain,  "if  we  have  found 
out  at  last  the  situation  in  life  that  my  clever  and  accomplished 
friend  is  best  adapted  for,  a  jolly  sinecure  under  the  Crown,  like 
De  Tabley's,  one  of  those  rosy  bowers  about  the  Court,  or  well- 
feathered  nests  at  Somerset  Ilouse,  or  Greenwich  Hospital, 
where,  blessed  with  emolument  and  unperplexed  with  duty,  a 
man  has  time  to  think,  which  nothing  interrupts  like  the  hurry 
of  business ;  and  leisure  to  dine,  which  nothing  spoils  like  the 
thought  of  to-morrow  morning." 

De  Tabley  never  liked  to  be  considered  a  sinecurist,  and  said 
he  "  knew  of  no  such  rosy  bowers  and  cosy  nests  as  Primrose 
spoke  of.  All  non-officials  talked  in  the  same  strain.  He 
wished  his  friend  Hyacinth  would  only  try  a  week's  duty  in  the 
Comptrollership  of  the  Navy  Victualling  Department." 

"  Will  you  take  the  Bishop's  chaplaincy  for  the  same  time  ?" 
replied  Hyacinth. 

De  Tabley  shook  his  head,  laughed,  and  said  "  he  had  no 
doubt  that  was  a  post  of  considerable  difficulty." 

"  You  have  no  notion  of  it,"  said  the  other ;  "  but  when 
uncle  Tom  goes  to  school,  the  business  will  not  be  so  heavy." 

The  Vicar  meanwhile  was  paying  his  respects  to  the  Bishop, 
whom  he  now  saw  for  the  first  time  since  his  elevation  to  the 
bench.  Tom  was  rolling  on  the  floor  of  the  study,  very  busy, 
like  a  true  "chip  of  the  old  block,"  building  castles  with  the 
blue-books,  and  enlarging  and  alte.-ing  them  with  parliamentary 
papers  of  all  kinds.  His  cot  with  the  purple  velvet  curtains 
stood  in  a  corner,  but  he  was  now  too  great  a  fellow  to  sleep  in 
it,  and  only  used  it  as  a  general  receptacle  for  the  toys  and  bon 
bons  with  which  he  was  loaded  by  all  his  f.cq  aaiutances,  espe 
cially  by  the  wives  of  the  Shrewsbury  clergy, 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  397 

The  kind  reception  old  Mr.  Medlicott  met  with  from  his  ven- 
e'rable  father-in-law  affected  him  extremely.  The  Bishop 
thought  he  had  been  over-scrupulous  m  refusing  the  living,  but 
highly  commended  his  probity  and  disinterestedness,  and  hoped 
it  would  soon  be  in  his  power  to  offer  him  something  in  Shrews 
bury  worth  his  acceptance.  The  Vicar  then  said  he  regretted  it 
had  not  been  suggested  to  the  Chancellor  to  provide  for  Reuben 
in  some  way  or  other. 

The  Bishop  looked  surprised  at  this  suggestion,  and  at  first 
the  Vicar  thought  he  was  displeased  at  it ;  he  rose  from  his 
chair,  swung  himself  about  the  room,  puffed  his  cheeks,  pro 
truded  his  lower  lip,  assisted  Tom  in  his  building  for  a  moment; 
then  pulled  out  his  enormous  watch,  like  the  clock  of  a  church, 
said  he  must  go  down  to  the  House  of  Lords,  and  desired  the 
Vicar  not  to  fail  to  dine  with  him  between  six  and  seven. 

The  Bishop  went  straight  to  the  point,  while  Mrs.  Primrose 
was  beating  about  the  bush,  with  her  diplomatic  notes  to  Master 
Turner.  Reuben  was  nominated  that  very  day  to  an  appoint 
ment  of  high  respectability  in  connection  with  the  Court  of 
Chancery ;  the  salary  from  seven  to  eight  hundred  a  year,  with 
a  little  patronage  attached,  and  perquisites  that  brought  it  up  to 
nearly  the  clear  thousand. 

"  I  know  the  office  well,"  said  De  Tabley,  "  one  of  the  very 
best  things  going." 

"Except  that,  I  fear,  it  leads  to  nothing,"  said  Mrs.  Wyndham. 

"  Leads  to  nothing !"  exclaimed  Hyacinth  ;  "  at  the  worst  it 
leads  to  Blackwall  and  Richmond." 

"  Is  it  compatible  with  Parliament  ?"  said  Mrs.  Primrose, 
aside  to  the  Vicar. 

"  No,  Catherine,"  he  replied,  "  and  so  much  the  better  upon 
many  accounts." 

There  was  some  little  apprehension,  for  various  reasons,  on 
the  part  of  several  of  his  friends,  that  Mr.  Medlicott  would  hesi 
tate  to  accept  the  appointment,  great  as  its  advantages  were ;  in 
his  embarrassed  and  critical  circumstances  nothing  less  than  a 
splendid  piece  of  good  fortune.  But,  if  he  had  his  doubts,  he 
kept  them  to  himself,  and  upon  the  whole  abandoned  himself 
with  wonderful  resignation  to  the  receipt  of  a  handsome  salary 
and  the  tranquil  enjoyments  of  office. 

The  report  at  Chichester  was  that  Reuben  had  joined  the 
Cabinet.  Alderman  Codd  met  Mr.  Pigvvidgeon,  and  gave  him 
an  unctuous  description  of  the  emolument  and  dignity  of  the  ap- 


398  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

pointment.     Mr.  Medlicott,  he  understood,  intended  to  give  his 
friends  a  grand  dinner, — turtle  and  venison  and.  iced  punch. 

Mr.  Pigwidgeon  saicf  he  had  no  doubt  the  place  was  a  rank 
sinecure,  which  ought  to  have  been  abolished  long  ago;  but  at 
the  same  time  it  was  a  wonderful  come-down  for  a  man  who  had 
cocked  up  his  nose  so  high  as  Mr.  Medlicott.  He  was. sincerely 
sorry  to  see  it.  There  was  his  son  who  had  scorned  to  accept 
anything  under  the  government  of  an  island.  He  was  now  his 
Excellency  Sir  Theodore  Pigwidgecn,  and  could  hang  anybody 
he  pleased  in  the  island  without  judge  or  jury. 

"  Be  that  as  it  may,"  said  the  Alderman,  "  turtle-soup  is  not  a 
bad  thing." 

"  Why  do  you  talk  of  turtle  ?"  said  the  Apothecary,  "  sure  my 
son  is  in  the  place  that  turtle  comes  from." 

One  of  the  pleasant  circumstances  of  Mr.  Medlicott's  new  posi 
tion  was  that  it  only  involved  personal  attendance  in  term-time, 
so  that  it  wa,s  not  necessary  to  give  up  his  gardening,  or  relinquish 
Mr.  Cox's  country-house,  which  he  now  held  at  a  fair  rent,  but 
one  which  was  never  demanded  nor  paid.  Another  was  the 
little  patronnge  at  his  disposal.  He  was  now  enabled  to  provide 
for  two  of  his  godsons.  Reuben  Gosling  was  his  first  clerk  and 
receiver  of  fees,  with  two  hundred  per  annum  ;  Reuben  Medlicott 
Robinson  his  second,  with  half  that  salary.  The  former  was  a 
smart  forward  young  man,  not  only  clever  at  arithmetic  and 
book-keeping,  but  sharp  at  everything  ;  his  travels  in  America 
and  Reuben's  favour  had  made  him  inordinately  conceited ;  he 
thought  no  girl  could  withstand  his  charms,  and  laid  out  the 
greater  part  of  his  salary  on  finery  to  render  himself  still  moi'fe 
attractive.  The  latter  was  an  industrious,  quiet,  timid  boy,  proud 
of  nothing  but  his  name ;  he  thought  Mr.  Medlicott  the  greatest 
man  living,  and  would  willingly  have  died  in  his  service,  which 
Mr.  Gosling  would  nol  have  done. 

'  It  was  curious  to  observe  the  different  views  which  the  relatives 
and  friends  of  Reuben  took  of  his  present  situation.  His  female 
friends  in  general  were  disposed  to  be  uneasy  lest  the  duties  of 
his  office  should  prove  too  severe  for  him;  his  wife  was  appre 
hensive  of  his  suffering  from  mental  anxiety  ;  Mrs.  Primrose  was 
more  afraid  of  sedentary  habits  and  indigestion  ;  Charmette 
warned  him  against  corpulence ;  bu-t  his  mother  was  haunted 
by  errors  of  all  sorts,  particularly  about  his  spirits  and  his  lungs  ; 
she  provoked  the  Vicar  excessively  by  doubting  whether,  upon 
the  whole,  Reuben  had  acted  wisely  in  accepting  the  place. 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN. 

"  If  there  are  twenty  right"  views  of  any  subject,"  said  the 
Vicar,  "  and  only  one  wrong  one,  a  woman  will  infallibly  take 
the  latter." 

"  I  don't  mean  to  say,"  said  Mrs.  Medlicott,  "  that  the  situa 
tion  hus  not  its  advantages." 

"  And  you  may  safely  trust  himself  for  discovering  its  advan 
tages,"  said  the  Vicar. 

There  was  one  discovery,  indeed,  which  Mr.  Medlicott  made 
before  he  was  an  official  of  three  months'  standing.  This  was 
the  fact  that,  beyond  signing  his  name  a  certain  number  of  times 
in  the  day  there  was  little  or  no  duty  which  Mr.  Gosling  was 
not  perfectly  competent  to  discharge  ;  and  he  mentioned  this  to 
De  Tabley  in  a  tone  of  complaint,  as  if  he  had  been  betrayed 
into  accepting  that  office  by  delusive  representations. 

De  Tabley  smiled,  and  said  it  was  a  singular  complaint  to 
make,  even  if  the  fact  were  so;  but  for  his  part,  he  added,  he 
always  found  something  to  do  in  the  Victualling  Department, 
and  he  could  hardly  believe  that  in  such  a  department  as  Chan 
cery  any  place  could  be  a  complete  sinecure.  Why  the  very 
fleecing  of  the  public  to  so  great  extent  could  not  but  be  a  work 
of  considerable  labour. 

Reuben  laughed  at  the  word  labour,  as  being  ludicrously  in 
applicable  to  all  the  work  done  in  the  course  of  the  week  by 
himself  and  his  godsons  together. 

"  You  will  find  more  to  do,  when  you  have  been  longer  in 
the  office. — I  speak  from  experience,"  said  the  other. 

"Perhaps  so,"  said  Reuben.  De  Tabley,  indeed,  was  that 
kind  of  man  who  in  truth  would  have  been  content  if  his  office 
had  been  discharged  of  all  duty  whatever;  he  would  never  have 
quarrelled  with  it  on  that  account.  At  the  same  time  he  was 
not  only  most  attentive  to  such  business  as  he  had  to  do,  but  he 
made  it  seem  ten  times  as  great  as  it  actually  was,  by  his  leisurely 
and  ostentatious  manner  of  transacting  it.  He  perfectly  under 
stood  the  art  of  seeming  wise  and  appearing  busy.  He  never 
wrote  a  short  memorandum  ;  his  minutes  took  hours  to  read  ; 
he  multiplied  references,  accumulated  papers,  used  larger  enve 
lopes,  greater  seals,  and  more  miles  of  red  tape  and  green  ribbon 
than  anybody  else  in  the  public  service.  His  table  always  sug 
gested  the  idea  of  affairs  the  most  numerous  and  weighty.  He 
wrote  all  his  private  letters  in  office  hours,  upon  official  stationery, 
sealed  them  with  official  seals,  and  dispatched  them  by  official 
messengers.  There  was  always  a  difficulty  about  seeing  him, 


400  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

and  be  was  never  surprised  reading  a  newspaper  or  a  novel, 
smoking  a  cigar,  lunching,  or  taking  a  siesta  in  his  easy  chair. 
Then  he  never  left  his  office  without  carrying  away  with  him  a 
box  of  papers,  or  a  couple  of  blue-books,  which  impressed  the 
spectators  with  the  belief  that  even  his  private  hours  were  en 
croached  on  by  his  public  employments.  He  kept  the  mes 
sengers  and  junior  clerks  in  a  constant  hurry  and  ferment,  and 
by  all  these  arts  and  contrivances,  systematically  practised,  he 
convinced  hundreds,  and  eventually  persuaded  himself,  thatjie 
was  a  very  hard-worked  and  meritorious  public  servant. 

Business,  however,  grew  so  little  upon  Mr.  Medlicott,  that  he 
had  not  only  time  enough  on  his  hands  to  make  long  sojourns 
at  Chichester,  and  pay  occasional  visits  to  his  grandfather  at 
Shrewsbury  or  Westbury,  but  ample  leisure  to  renew  his  inter 
course  with  his  Quaker  friends,  who  continued  to  believe  him 
the  foremost  man  of  the  age,  and  stuck  to  him  the  more  firmly 
because  they  considered  him  a  martyr  to  the  envy  or  stupidity 
of  the  House  of  Commons.  He  now  became  treasurer  to  the 
Peace  Society  at  Harvey's  solicitation  :  but  this  gave  him  no 
increase  of  trouble,  for  Mr.  Gosling  took  all  the  labour  on  him 
self,  received  the  money,  kept  the  books,  prepared  the  accounts, 
did  everything  in  fact  that  was  to  be  done  with  an  ease  and 
cleverness  that  raised  him  still  higher  in  his  godfather's  good 
opinion. 

With  all  Mr.  Gosling's  cleverness,  however,  Reuben  found  at 
the  end  of  a  year  that  the  profits  of  his  office  were  not  so  con 
siderable  as  he  had  been  led  to  expect.  This  was  a  more  un 
pleasant  discovery  than  the  first  he  had  made.  When  -he  men 
tioned  it  to  De  Tabley,  the  latter  hoped  he  had  an  efficient  and 
trustworthy  clerk  to  receive  the  fees. 

"The  cleverest  fellow  in  Edgland,"  said  Mr.. Medlicott,  in 
everything  connected  with  money ;  the  best  accountant,  the 
best  book-keeper ;  a  most  deserving  and  promising  young  man." 

"  I  hope  you  audit  his  accounts,  nevertheless,"  said  his  friend. 

"  Perfectly  unnecessary,"  said  Reuben  ;  "  he  has  such  a  lumi 
nous  method  of  book-keeping  that  his  accounts,  in  fact,  audit 
themselves." 

The  clever  young  man  in  question  came  in  at  the  moment 
with  some  papers  for  his  chief's  signature. 

"  Is  that  your  Receiver  ?"  said  De  Tabley,  after  having  scruti 
nised  the  godson  from  top  to  toe  with  his  eye-glass. 

"  I  see,"  answered  Reuben    "  you  are  surprised  to  see  him 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  401 

rigged  out  so  smartly.  Poor  fellow,  dress  is  the  only  indulgence 
he  allows  himself." 

De  Tabley  was  at  Blackwall  the  following  day,  and  noticed 
the  Receiver  at  a  table  not  far  from  his  own,  entertaining  two 
companions  at  a  regular  white- bait  dinner.  He  mentioned  this 
to  Reuben,  who  thought  it  his  duty  to  speak  on  the  subject  to 
his  godson.  It  was  all  a  mistake.  Mr.  Reuben  Gosling  did  not 
even  know  whether  Blackwall  was  up  the  Thames  or  down  the 
Thames.  "  And  as  to  white-bait,  sir,"  said  he,  "  I  do  not  know 
whether  it  is  fish  or  fowl ;  I  never  tasted  it  in  my  life,  and  never 
hope  to  do  so."  ^ 

What  could  be  more  satisfactory  ?  Indeed,  there  never  was  a 
public  officer  so  happy  in  clerk  or  secretary,  for  Mr.  Gosling  soon 
showed  him  that  by  imitating  his  handwriting  he  could  even 
save  him  the  trouble  of  signing  papers  ;  the  consequence  of  which 
was  that  in  the  second  year  of  his  placemanship  Mr.  Medlicott 
scarcely  showed  his  face  three  times  in  the  purlieus  of  the  Court 
of  Chancery. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

ME.   UEDLIOOTT  RENOUNCES  THE   ERROES   OF   BEEF   AND   MUTTON. 

IT  was  at  this  period,  or  thereabouts,  that  the  still  sanguine 
and  ambitious  Mr.  Medlicott,  applying  his  versatile  mind  to  new 
objects  of  interest,  was  converted  (through  the  exertions  of  Harvey 
principally)  to  the  doctrines  and  practices  of  the  vegetarians.  He 
expatiated  publicly  on  the  subject  in  the  Hanover  Square  Rooms 
to  large  audiences,  chiefly  composed  of  hypochondriacs  who  had 
lost  their  confidence  in  Parr's  pills,  and  the  regular  dreary  old 
pack  of  London  lecture-goers,  the  same  sort  of  people  who  are 
now  to  be  seen  flocking  to  lectures  on  animal  magnetism  and 
electro-biology.  In  his  garden  at  Chichester  he  now  devoted 
himself  almost  exclusively  to  the  culture  of  vegetables,  and  an 
nounced  himself  to  the  world  as  an  epicurean  of  the  true  school, 
and  the  only  real  possessor  of  the  elixir  of  life.  This  was  the 
only  absurdity  in  which  Mr.  Medlicott  was  ever  countenanced 
by  his  grandfather.  The  Bishop,  now  very  old,  was  not  the  less 
disposed  to  live  upon  that  account ;  but  was  determined,  on  the 
contrary,  to  live  as  long  as  he  could,  partly  because  he  was 


402  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

thinking  gravely  of  rebuilding  the  palace,  partly  because  he  was 
anxious  to  see  his  son  well  settled  in  the  woild. 

Mr.  Primrose  beginning  one  morning  to  ridicule  the  vegetarian 
heresy,  as  he  called  it,  got  himself  unexpectedly  snubbed.  The 
Bishop  took  up  the  cause  of  the  peas  against  the  ducks,  and 
disparaged  the  lamb  while  he  magnified  the  spinach.  Nor  was 
this  mere  table-talk.  Tom  was  put  upon  vegetable  diet  soon 
after,  Mr.  Primrose  began  to  tremble  for  his  saddle  of  mutton 
and  haunch  of  venison,  and  a  feeling  of  alarm  and  insecurity, 
beginning  with  the  chaplain,  crept  from  parish  to  parish,  and 
soon  pervaded  the  whole  diocese.  Who  .could  tell  where  such  a 
revolution  would  stop?  The  lardfer  in  danger,  would  the  cellar 
long  be  safe  ?  Serious  encroachments  on  the  Protestant  religion 
have  often  excited  less  apprehension  in  the  minds  of  a  portion  of 
the  clergy  of  the  Church  of  England:  Some  of  .the  very  divines 
whose  gorge  rose  upon  this  occasion  at  the  idea  of  dining  on  a 
cauliflower,  have  since  been  known  to  swallow  crucifixes  and 
candlesticks,  things  the  hardest,  one  would  suppose,  to  be 
stomached  by  a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England. 

After  corresponding  with  his  grandson  for  some  time  on  the 
most  improved  modes  of  cultivating  and  cooking  vegetables,  to- 
make  them  as  worthy  as  possible  of  being  used  exclusively  for 
the  food  of  man,  his  Jordship  was  seized  with  a  sudden  desire  to 
see  with  his  own  eyes  how  Mr.  Medlicott  practised  the  system 
both  in  the  garden  and  the  kitchen,  arid  announced  his  resolution 
to  pay  him  a  visit.  No  day  however  was  fixed,  nor  could  the 
Bishop  be  prevailed  on  to  fix  one,  which  was  most  uncomfortable 
for  Mrs.  Medlicott,  for  she  was  kept  in  a  state  of  continual  anxiety, 
not  knowing  the  moment  when  a  personage  of  such  consequence 
would  arrive.  The  house  being  so  small,  it  was  decided  to 
remove  to  Mr.  Cox's  town  rogidence  (for  he  happened  to  be  absent 
at  the  time),  and  surrender  Virginia  entirely  to  the  Wyndhams 
during  their  stay.  The  Bishop  for  weeks  continued  shilly-shally, 
and  at  length  arrived  at  the  most  unlucky  of  all  possible  moments. 
Mr.  Medlieott  and  his  father  were  dining  with  Canon  Old  port, 
whose  dining  days  were  not  yet  over.  Mary  had  gone  with  her 
children  to  her  aged  mother's  cottage,  leaving  full  instructions 
with  her  trusty  maids  how  to  act  in  case  visitors  should  arrive, 
for  it  had  been  arranged  that  whenever  the  Bishop  came,  he 
should  call  first  at  the  house  in  town.  Dorothy  and  Jenny, 
however,  saw  no  reason  for  expecting  the  Bishop  on  that  evening 
more  than  another,  and  they  thought  they  might  very  well 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAX.  ,      403 

venture  to  pop  out  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  to  gossip  with  their 
acquaintances  in  the  neighbourhood.  They  had  not  deserted 
their  posts  for  five  minutes,  when  a  huge  travelling  coach-and- 
four  drove  up  to  Mr.  Cox's,  just  such  a  coach  as  Squire  Wrong- 
head  in  the  play  travels  up  to  London  in.  Old  Matthew's  door 
never  experienced  such  a  thundering  salute.  Again,  again,  and 
again,  more  like  cannonading  thfln  knocking,  with  no  reply  but 
the  echo  of  the  empty  house,  while  the  choler  of  a  very  stout  old 
gentleman,  with  a  shovel-hat,  who  was  mounted  on  the  box,  with 
a  blooming  boy  at  his  side,  rose  at  every  unavailing  application 
to  the  knocker.  At  length  a  little  group  of  idlers  collected, 
attracted  by  the  noise,  and  curious  to  see  a  bishop  on  so  unusual 
a  bench. 

Mr.  Primrose  alighted,  and  asked  the  civilest-looking  of  the 
bystanders  whether  this  was  not  Mr.  Cox's  house. 

"  Yes." 

"  And  is  not  Mr.  Mecllicott  residing  here  at  present  I" 

"  What  Mr.  Medlicott  ?" 

Primrose  wss  amazed  at  the  question. 

"  Such  is  popularity,"  growled  the  Bishop,  unable  to  avoid 
philosophising,  angry  as  he  was.  "  Mr.  Reuben  Medlicott,"  said 
the  chaplain. 

"  Is  it  the  market-gardener  T '  asked  another  of  the  loungers. 

"  Oh,  it's  orator  Medlicott  the  gentleman  wants,"  said  a  third  ; 
"  but  he  doesn't  live  here,  sir,  he  lives  at  the  Snuff-Box." 

"  We  had  better  go  at  once  to  Virginia,"  said  the  sweet  voice 
of  Blanche  from  the  inside;  "Virginia  is  a  prettier  name  than 
the  Snuff-Box,"  she  added,  with  a  mile,  aside  to  the  chaplain. 

"  Drive  to  Virginia,"  called  the  Bishop  to  the  postillions. 
The  chaplain  asked  advice  as  to  the  road,  and  away  dashed  the 
coach-and-four  up  the  gree*n  lane. 

It  was  the  same  thing  at  Virginia ;  the  b-^11  that  hung  in  the 
horse-chestnut  was  nearly  pulled  down  with  r  aging.  The  Bishop 
shouted. to  make  himself  heard,  but  there  was  nobodv  there  to 
hear  him,  nor  any  rejoinder  but  the  honest  bark  of  Constable, 
who  seemed  to  be  the  only  officer  in  charge  of  the  premises.  In 
fact  it  was  a  very  ugly  business  altogether,  and  there  seemed  no 
remedy  but  to  return  to  Chichester  and  go  to  the  Parrot.  How 
ever,  when  they  came  back  to  Mr.  Cox's  house,  all  was  right; 
Mr.  Medlicott  was  at  the  door,  just  returned  from  Mr.  Oldport's. 
There  was  no  time,  of  course,  to  lecture  the  maids  that  night. 
It  was  almost  dark.  Reuben  mounted  the  dickey,  and  con 


404:  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

ducted  the  party  back  again  to  Virginia,  where,  before  they  were 
settled  for  the  night,  there  was  an  hour  of  such  fuss  as  that  quiet 
retreat  had  never  experienced  before.  Among  other  causes  of 
confusion,  it  turned  out  that  in  place  of  a  portmanteau  with  the 
Bishop's  ordinary  linen,  a  trunk  with  his  lawn-sleeves  and  mitre 
had  been  brought  down  to  the  country.  There  was  always  some 
mistake  of  the  kind  wherever  he  went.  Mr.  Medlicott  did  the 
best  he  could  to  redress  grievances,  and  then  returned  to  town 
to  rejoin  his  wife. 

The  overhauling  of  the  delinquent  maids  at  an  early  hour 
on  the  following  morning  was  a  sight  worth  the  seeing.  Old 
Matthew's  wainscoted  dining-room  was  the  court  of  sessions  : 
there  sat  the  ex-member  for  Chichester  in  Mat's  elbow  chair  (a 
chair  from  which  justice  had  often  before  uttered  her  oracles),  a 
self-constituted  magistrate  within  his  private  domestic  jurisdic 
tion.  Not  far  off  sat  his  wife,  in  her  semi-Quakerly  habit,  the 
gray  silk  gown,  and  the  crisp  white  muslin,  more  than  usually 
sedate,  as  became  the  gravity  of  the  occasion.  You  heard  the 
sighings  and  dolorous  interjections  of  the  offenders  before  they 
came  to  the  bar.  The  meekest  possible  tap  at  the  door  heralded 
their  appearance,  and  they  entered  in  their  neat  tight  jackets 
and  gay  petticoats,  with  their  faces  buried  in  their  bo-oms,  their 
hands  industrious  with  the  strings  of  their  snowy  aprons,  neither 
pressing  herselfrbrward,  but  rather  wishing  to  prefer  the  other 
to  the  place  of  honor.  One  of  the  poor  things  was  ordered  to 
shut-to  the  door.  Then  Reuben  began,  and  never  did  any  jus 
tice  of  the  peace  paint  crime  in  livelier  colours,  or  so  sting  to  the 
quick  the  conscience  of  the  trembling  criminals  before  him,  as 
he  did  that  morning  in  the  rating  he  gave  his  delinquent  hand 
maids  ;  while  at  the  end  of  every  sentence  his  wife  nodded  her 
full  approbation,  as  one  judge  upon  the  bench  is  seen  to  sanction 
in  dumb-show  the  law  as  laid  down  by  his  learned  brother. 
Reuben  expounded  the  duties  of  domestics  lucidly ;  what  faith 
was  reposed  in  them,  what  diligence  and  fidelity  was  expected 
from  them  ;  how  they  were  trustees  of  their  master's  goods  and 
chattels  in  his  absence,  how  the  safety  of  houses  and  the  well- 
being  of  families  depended  upon  their  vigilance  and  good  be 
haviour.  Then  he  detailed  instances  of  fires,  and  examples  of 
robberies,  which  had  taken  place  because  maids  preferred  gad 
ding  to  minding  their  business ;  and  Mrs.  Medlicott,  as  arnica 
curice,  reminded  him  of  one  or  two  cases  in  point  which  had 
escaped  his  recollection.  If  these  topics  made  the  guilty  crea- 


OB,  THE   COMING  MAN.  405 

tures  tremble,  imagine  how  they  felt  when  ne  went  on  to  de 
liver  the  law  of  the  land  ;  with  what  eyes  it  regarded  and  with 
what  correction  it. punished  disorderly  servants.  Here  he  spoke 
with  particular  authority,  for,  as  member  for  the  city,  he  had 
been  ex  officio  a  visitor,  and  in  some  sort  a  controller  of  bride 
wells,  and  could  reveal  the  secrets  of  the  prison-house ;  but  even 
this  was  not  the  climax  of  his  address.  It  was  not  until,  with 
artfully  lowered  voice  and  touching  manner,  he  came  to  speak 
of  the  kindness  and  favour  with  which  you  Dorothy,  and  you 
Jenny,  had  been  invariably  treated  by  the  mildest  and  best  of 
mistresses,  not  overworked  and  under-fed  like  many  of  your  de 
gree,  never  grudged  a  holiday,  never  forbidden  to  see  an  aunt  or 
a  godmother, — it  was  not  until  he  came  to  this  that  the  grand 
effect  was  produced  ;  and  the  fair  penitents,  unable  to  bear  more, 
began  to  weep  and  sob  so,  that  had  their  eloquent  master  in 
tended  to  close  his  address  with  a  sentence,  the  girls  were  scarce 
ly  in  a  condition  to  hear  or  understand  it.  However,  even  had 
tire  judgment-seat  been  so  austere,  the  mercy-seat  was  there, 
with  the  gracious  Mary  upon  it,  to  mitigate  whatever  doom 
should  be  pronounced.  The  girls  had  done  wisely  in  throwing 
themselves  upon  the  clemency  of  the  court,  and  they  were  dis 
missed,  still  weeping,  with  the  simple  condition  of  never  trans 
gressing  again  while  they  wore  petticoats,  at  least  while  they 
wore  Mr.  Medlicott's  colours. 

The  day  commenced  early,  because  the  Medlicotts  were  anx 
ious  to  join  their  guests  at  the  country-house.  Thither  they  re 
paired  immediately,  laughing  children,  repentant  maids,  and  all 
to  be  in  time  to  receive  the  Bishop  and  his  suite  at  breakfast. 
On  the  way,  Mrs.  Medlicott  told  her  husband  that  she  was  very 
uneasy  in  her  mind,  having  dreamed  last  night  that  the  roof  of 
the  house  had  fallen  in  under  the  weight  of  the  flower-beds, 
directly  over  the  room  occupied  by  the  Bishop.  Reuben  smiled, 
repeated  his  conviction  that  all  was  perfectly  safe,  and  in  a  few 
moments  there  was  proof  enough  that  his  wife's  dream  had  come 
through  the  ivory  portal ;  for  when  they  entered  the  grounds, 
the  first  person  they  saw  was  the  glorious  old  prelate  himself, 
going  round  the  house  and  round  the  house,  and  planning  and 
almost  ordering  some  alteration  or  reconstruction  of  every  part 
of  it.  At  intervals  he  would  pause,  and  scold  either  his  chaplain 
or  his  wife  about  his  shirts,  desiring  to  know  whether  they  in 
tended  him  to  walk  about  the  fields  in  full  canonicals,  as  if  it 
•was  a  coronation  or  the  opening  of  Parliament. 


4:06  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 

Mr.  Primrose  ventured  to  observe  that  as  the  episcopal  office 
was  a  pastoral  one,  there  would  be  no  great  impropriety  in  his 
lordship  wearing  his  lawn-sleeves  in  the  meadows. 

Mr.'  Medlicott'said  that  Bacon's  observations  on  the  mon 
arch's  crown  would  apply  equally  well  to  the  bishop's  mitre,  that 
to  wear  it  with  ease  it  ought  to  be  worn  every  day. 

The  Bishop  took  no  notice  of  what  any  of  them  said,  but 
walked  about  with  Tom  by  the  hand,  admiring  the  garden, 
which  really  deserved  the  ]••  ,-iise  he  gave  it,  for  between  the 
finest  of  vegetables  and  the  finest  of  flowers,  it  was  nothing  short 
of  a  wilderness  of  beauty. 

"  You  have  done  well,  sir,"  said  the  Bishop,  "  to  couple  Flora 
with  Pomona  ;  what  can  be  more  odoriferous  than  those  beans  ? 
what  gayer  than  those  scarlet-runners  ?  that  cabbage-rose  is  not 
disgraced  by  growing  beside  the  worthy  vegetable  from  which 
it  derives  its  name." 

"  Observe,  sir,  the  extraordinary  diameter  of  that  head,"  said 
Reuben ;  "  it  measures  nearly  two  feet  from  pole  to  pole.  I  am 
proud  to  have  produced  it;  it  makes  me  feel  like  the  creator  of 
a  world." 

"  There  is  a  world  of  nourishment  in  it,"  said  the  Bishop,  "  and 
as  much  wonder  to  the  eye  of  the  philosopher  as  in  the  great 
globe  itself." 

"  Gardening,  sir,  after  all,  is  a  noble  employment,"  said  Mr. 
Medlicott. 
.    The  Bishop  assented  without  speaking. 

"  Rather  earthly,  is  it  not?"  said  the  chaplain. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  his  master,  turning  round  upon  him  with 
severity,  "  not  earthlier  than  any  other  human  employment,  nor 
so  earthly  as  many ;  it  well  represents  the  proper  division  of 
the  mind  of  man  between  this  world  and  the  next.  While  the 
gardener  digs  the  ground,  his  looks  are  fixed  upon  it ;  when  he 
rests  upon  his  spade,  he  lifts  Ins  eyes  to  heaven." 

The-e  was  a  sublimity  not  only  in  the  thoisght,  but  in  the 
Bishop's  tone  and  manner  of  expressing  it. 

"  Os  homini  sublime  dedit,  ccelumgue  tueri"  said  Mr.  Prim 
rose,  to  cover  his  defeat. 

"  Noble  verse,"  said  Reuben.  . 

"  It  ought  to  be  Virgil's,"  said  the  Bishop.          . 

"  Breakfast  is  ready,"  said  little  Chichester,  creeping  in 
among  them  all,  a  messenger  from  his  mother,  who  had  been 
busy  all  this  time  preparing  the  morning  repast. 


OB,  THE   COMING   MAN.  407 

The  first  thing  the  Bishop  thought  of  after  breakfast  was  _ 
his  shirts  again.  He  told  Reuben  that  he  must  get  a  shirt  by 
hook  or  by  crook.  There  was  no  great  difficulty  about  it,  be 
cause  Mr.  Medlicott  was  now  himself  a  portly  man,  and  his 
shirts  promised  to  fit  his  grandfather  fairly  enough.  He  chose 
one  of  the  newest,  and  gave  it  to  the  old  man,  who  marched  off 
with  it  to  his  chamber,  crushing  it  in  his  hands  as  if  it  was  no 
more  than  a  napkin. 

Ah,  Dorothy,  Dorothy,  so  soon  to  be  in  a  scrape  again, 
scarcely  an  hour  out  of  the  hands  of  justice,  the  tears  scarce 
dry  upon  your  cheek  with  which  you  implored  and  obtained 
mercy ! 

The  Bishop  no  sooner  entered  his  bedroom  than  he  saw  an 
other  member  of  the  hierarchy  standing  in  the  middle  of  the 
floor,  and  in  full  pontifical  attire,  not  only  in  his  lawn-sleeves, 
but  with  his  mitre  on  his  head.  He  seemed  to  be  admiring 
himself,  too.  in  a  large  mirror,  for  he  was  looking  over  his 
shoulder,  and  was  so  intent  on  the  prospect,  that  his  brother  of 
Shrewsbury  was  within  a  yard  of  him  before  his  approach  was 
noticed. 

"How  row,  Mistress  Curiosity!"  shouted  the  Bishop,  not 
long  in  discovering  who  it  was  that  was  dressed  in  his  robes. 

The  maid  screamed,  pulled  off  the  mitre  and  threw  it  on  the 
bed,  shuffled  off  the  lawn  with  equal  haste,  and  flew  from  the 
room  almost  into  the  arms  of  her  master,  who,  hearing  the  girl 
scream,  had  hastened  to  the  door,  greatly  shocked  at  his  grand 
father's  behaviour  in  alarming  his  maids  after  such  a  fashion. 

%It  was  a  serious  misdemeanour  on  Dorothy's  part,  and 
greatly-  aggravated  by  the  mercy  so  lately  extended  to  her  mis 
deeds  ;  but,  nevertheless,  she  got  through  this  scrape  easier  than 
the  last;  the/  comic  nature  of  her  fault  protected  her  from  its 
just  retribution  ;  and  had  either  her  master  or  mistress  proposed 
any  form  of  penalty,  there  would  have  been  an  unanimous  out 
cry  in  the  offender's  behalf. 

Mr.  Primrose  was  not  long  in  giving  her  the  title  of  the 
Bishop  of  Virginia;,  and  the  old  gentleman  meeting  her  again 
in  the  course  of  the  day,  sweeping  the  house  very  diligently, 
told  her  "  he  wished  he  could  keep  his  diocese  as  cleau  as  she 
kept  hers." 


408  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ; 


CHAPTER  IX. 

IN  WHICH   AXOTHEE   BUBBLE   BURSTS. 

THE  Bishop,  indeed,  found  himself  so  comfortable,  and  liked 
everybody  and  everything  about  him  so  well,  that  before  dinner 
he  announced  his  resolution  to  remain  for  a  week  under  his 
grandson's  roof,-  and  even  talked  of  leaving  Tom  behind  him, 
which  Blanche  knew  very  well  he  would  not  do,  when  it  came 
to  the  point.  In  fact  he  seldom  let  Tom  out  of  his  sight,  and 
was  miserable  if  he  escaped  for  a  moment  to  play  with  Chiches- 
ter,  lest  he  should  be  drowned  in  some  duck-pond,  devoured 
by  Constable,  or  lost  in  some  imaginary  labyrinth  of  the 
garden. 

"  Depend  upon  it,  sir,"  he  said  to  Reuben,  "  you  have  hit 
upon  the  true  mode  of  enjoying  life  at  last ;  happiness  depends 
upon  three  things  (humanly  speaking),  health,  contentment,  and 
security:  here  you  have  all  three;  as  to  health,  you  have  ar 
rived  at  the  great  secret  of  preserving  it ;  as  to  content,  you 
have  everything  here  that  a  man  of  sense  and  philosophy  can 
require ;  and  as  to  security  (with  that  snug  place  in  Chan 
cery),  I  see  no'.hing-  that  is  likely  to  interrupt  it,  until  the  hour 
comes  that  comes  to  all  men,  and  you  fall  like  a  ripe  pear,  or  the 
last  leaf  of  October." 

"Indeed,  sir,"- said  Reuben,  "  I  think  it  highly  probable  that 
this  will  be  the  longest  chapter  of  my  life,  if  not  also  the  last 
one.  But  I  have  now  to  put  a  practical  question  to  you  and  to 
my  other  guests, — shall  we  dine  in  the  usual  apartment,  or'  in 
the  tower,  or  speculum,  from  which  we  command  a  most  exten 
sive  and  superb  prospect  ?" 

"  Not  in  the  speculum"  said  the  Bishop  ;  "  I  am  not  such  a 
climber  as  I  was  in  former  days." 

"  As  you  were,  sir,"  said  Blanche,  "  when  you  took  us  all  to 
see  the  new  houses  in  Barsac  Square,  and  made  my  poor  father 
and  uncle  follow  you  up  the  ladders,  at  the  risk  of  their  lives. 
You  remember  that,  Reuben  ?" 

"  That  I  do  well,  fair  grandmamma,"  said  Mr.  Medlicott. 

"  No,"  continued  the  Bishop,  "  order  the  table  to  be  laid  un 
der  the  trees ;  the  wasps  are  not  come  yet ;  and  remember  ! — 
no  compromise,  no  infraction  of  the  system, — neither  fish,  flesh, 
nor  fowl, — rif  Primrose  will  not  feast  with  us  and  Epicurus,  let 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN".  409 

him  have  his  dinner  with  Aristippus  in  the  buttery,  or  at  the 
sideboard." 

"  My  wife  has  arranged  all  that,"  said  Reuben  ;  "  the  cloth 
shall  be  spread,  sir,  where  you  propose,  and  as  soon  as  my  father 
and  mother  arrive,  the  gong  shall  toll,  and  we  shall  go  to 
dinner." 

The  Vicar  and  old  Mrs.  Medlicott  did  not  keep  the  com 
pany  long  waiting.  JSheu  fugaces  ! — they  were  both  much  al 
tered  since  we  first  introduced  them  to  the  reader's  acquaintance. 
The  Vicar's  head  was  now  very  hoary ;  his  teeth  were  fewer 
in  number;  his  gait  much  tardier;  his  rosy  cheeks  and  the  sly 
humouious  twinkle  in  his  eye,  were  the  only  respects  in  which  he 
was  not  greatly  changed.  His  wife  was  more  changed  still,  but 
the  change  was,  on  the  whole,  to  her  advantage;  she  had  ex 
panded  comfortably  in  sundry  directions  ;  her  hair  was  now  pure 
silver,  without  being  diminished  in  quantity;  and  though  she 
still  had  the  didactic  air  of  the  schoolmistress,  she  was  altogether 
a  comelier  woman  in  the  winter  than  she  had  been  in  the  sum 
mer  of  her  days. 

But  there  goes  the  gong,  sounding  the  tocsin  of  conviviality  ! 
To  the  pastoral  table,  with  the  blue  above  and  the  green  below, 
the  portly  and  handsome  Reuben  conducted  the  fairest  and 
youngest  of  grandmothers,  the  steadiest  of  friends,  the  best  of 
little  women.  The  veteran  prelate  (fine  old  oak  that  he  was  of 
the  English  forest)  escorted  his  meek,  amiable,  semi-Quakerly 
hostess.  To  the  Vicar's  share  fell  the  goodly  prize  of  his  buxom 
sister-in-law,  in  whom  (although  no  Dryden  has  commemorated 
her  worth)  there  dwelt  as  many  virtues  as  in  Eleanora  herself, 
or  Mrs.  Killigrew.  The  chaplain  had  Hobson's  choice,  and 
led  the  senior  Mrs.  Medlicott  to  the  board,  where  he  took  his 
seat  with  wonderful  good  grace,  considering  the  bleak  prospect 
before  him ;  but  then  he  had  a  glimpse  of  a  cold  sirloin  on  a 
side-table  not  far  off,  which  probably  helped  to  preserve  his 
serenity. 

The  table,  spread  on  a  patch  of  smooth  emerald  sward,  in 
an  open  space  near  the  house,  was  as  perfect  as  neatness  could 
make  it  without  splendour  or  expense.  The  only  piece  of  plate 
was  that  which  the  electors  of  Chichester  had  presented  to  Mr. 
Medlicott  when  he  retired  from  the  representation.  A  few  vases 
of  Mary's  finest  flowers  were  the  only  other  ornaments.  At 
each  corner  stood  a  great  crystal  or  glass  jug  of  the  brightest 
water.  Mr.  Primrose  and  the  Vicar  had  no  objection  to  the 
18 


410  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

brightness ;  but  they  would  both  have  been  better  pleased  if  the 
taste  in  colours  displayed  in  the  costume  of  tlie  maids  had  also 
prevailed  in  the  contents  of  the  decanters.  The  company  stood. 
The  chaplain  pronounced  the  benison,  but  probably  would  have 
pronounced  it  with  more  unction,  had  he  not  but  too  clearly 
foreseen  what  the  uncovering  of  the  dishes  would  reveal.  Dor 
othy  and  Jane  performed  this  part  of  their  duty  with  as  much 
gravity  and  importance  as  if  they  were  ministering  at  the  most 
formal  dinner.  At  the  head,  before  the  master  of  the  feast, 
stood  a  dish  of  enormous  cauliflowers,  like  the  wigs  of  chancel 
lors,  garnished  with  Brussels  sprouts,  arranged  with  evident  at 
tention  to  pictorial  effect.  At  the  foot,  before  Mr.  Primrose,  were 
parsnips  and  carrots,  also  artistically  combined,  the  parsnips  ar 
ranged  in  a  circular  heap,  from  which  the  carrots  radiated  like 
spurs;  indeed  the  dish  resembled  nothing  so  much  as  an  im 
mense  sun^ower.  On  the  left  was  spinach  without  lamb,  and 
beans  without  bacon ;  on  the  right,  peas  separated  from  ducks, 
and  turnips  divorced  from  the  leg  of  mutton.  Potatoes  dressed 
in  six  different  ways  were  distributed  at  intervals..  There  were 
salads  with  oil  for  people  who  knew  what  salads  ought  to  be, 
and  salads  with  cream  for  people  who  did  not.  There  were  re 
moves  of  asparagus  and  artichokes ;  and  the  second  course  con 
sisted  of  peas  of  younger  growth,  mushrooms  variously  cooked, 
and  several  new  species  of  vegetables  which  Mr.  Medlicott  was 
endeavouring  to  naturalise  in  England. 

The  Bishop  had  always  been  a  lusty  diner,  and  he  now  dined 
as  lustily  and  voraciously  on  all  manner  of  vegetables  as  he  had 
ever  done  in  his  life  on  more  savoury  and  substantial  things. 
He  commended  everything  in  succession,  and  only  paused  in  his 
commendations  to  eat  again.  All  his  intolerance  of  character 
came  out  upon  this  occasion ;  he  was  angry  when  anybody  re 
fused  an  artichoke  or  declined  a  second  helping  of  peas;  and  he 
never  saw  Jenny  or  Dorothy  stealing  a  slice  of  the  sirloin  on 
either  the  Vicar's  plate  or  his  chaplain's,  but  he  scowled  at  the 
poor  girl  from  under  his  grizzly  brows,  called  the  taste  for  ani 
mal  food  a  deplorable  bigotry,  and  spoke  in  the  most  unhand 
some  and  unbecoming  terms  of  the  roast  beef  of  old  England. 

"  Now,  my  lord  Bishop,"  said  the  host,  after  he  had  prei  t.y 
well  distributed  his  fine  cauliflowers,  "good  eating,  says  the 
adage,  requires  good  drinking ;  let  me  call  your  attention  to  the 
sparkling  flask  near  you ;  I  have  the  honour  to  pledge  you  in  a 
glass  of  it." 


OB,  THE   COMING  MAJST.  411 

The  Bishop  crowned  his  glass,  quoting  Pindar  in  praise  of 
the  virtues  of  cold  water  with  a  jovial  air,  and  pushed  ihe  croft 
to  the  Vicar,  who  (being  less  subservient  than  the  chaplain)  hon 
estly  confessed  that  his  tastes  were  more  Anacreontic  than  Pin 
daric,  adding  a  sly  remark,  that  Pindar  after  all  was  a  Boeotian, 
and  consequently  no  very  great  authority  with  him. 

"A* fair  hit,"  said  the  Bishop;  "you  deserve  a  glass  of  port 
for  it." 

"  You  shall  have  it,  father,"  said  Reuben  ;  and  handing  a  key 
to  Dorothy,  he  instructed  her  to  fetch  the  wine. 

The  wine  came ;  Mr.  Primrose  quietly  seconded  the  Vicar  in 
disposing  of  it,  while  the  host  and  his  grandfather  adhered  to  the 
more  innocent  beverage  in  the  croft,  which  certainly  could  not 
have  promoted  loquacity  more,  had  it  been  Bourdeaux  or  Burgundy. 
Reuben  talked  largely  (and  on  the  whole  with  magnanimity)  of 
the  House  of  Commons ;  his  grandfather  talked  of  both  Houses 
when  it  came  to  his  turn,  and  although  the  old  stager  talked  too 
much,  he  was  certainly  the  least  garrulous  of  the  two.  The  rest  were 
mere  listeners,  though  perhaps  only  the  senior  Mrs.  Medlicott  list 
ened  with  profound  attention.  "She  thought  her  son  much  too 
lenient  in  his  criticisms  on  the  Lower  Chamber ;  and  from  her 
father's  observations  on  the  Upper  one,  satisfied  herself  thorough 
ly  that  Reuben  had  only  failed  in  Parliament  because  he  had  not 
the  good  fortune  to  have  been  born  a  peer. 

Once  or  twice  the  Bishop  forgot  himself,  and  filled  his  glass 
from  the  bottle  of  port,  but  by  tacit  consent  the  mistake  was 
connived  at  by  the  company.  In  short,  he  so  thoroughly  enjoy 
ed  his  vegetarian  entertainment,  that,  although  the  shades  of 
evening  had  begun  to  prevail,  he  could  not  be  induced  to  rise, 
until  numerous  great  drops  of  rain  foretold  the  approach  of  a 
heavy  shower,  and  rendered  a  precipitate  retreat  within  doora 
advisable.  • 

"  We  shall  have  a  wet  night,"  said  the  Bishop,  looking  at  the 
barometer,  which  was  falling  rapidly. 

It  proved  the  wettest  night  he  ever  passed  in  his  life,  but  the 
weight  of  moisture  in  the  clouds  was  not  altogether  to  blame  for 
it.  With  the  greatest  difficulty  did  Reuben  and  his  wife  effect 
their  return  to  Chichester  in  safety  ;  and  it  was  also  as  much  as 
the  Vicar  could  do  to  get  back  to  Underwood  without  being 
drowned.  Reuben  slept  soundly.  His  wife  did  not  sleep  for 
many  hours,  not  so  much  thinking  of  her  dream  as  of  the  natural 
and  only  too  probable  effect  of  such  weather  upon  the  roof  of  her 


412  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

country  house.  At  length  she  began  to  doze,  Imt  it  was  only 
to  drear*  again  of  the  same  perils,  and  before  long  the  images  of 
terror  which  filled  her  mind  began  to  be  mingled  with  strange, 
sharp,  intermitting  sounds.  She  awoke  in  terror,  and  sat  up  in 
the  bed ;  the  sounds  were  too  real ;  it  was  a  loud  knocking  at 
the  street  door.  With  no  little  difficulty  she  awakened  her  hus 
band.  He  threw  the  window  open  and  inquired  who  the  dis 
turber  was,  and  the  cause  of  this  untimely  visitation.  It  was  one 
of  his  gardeners  from  Virginia,  with  the  news  that  the  tank  on 
the  roof  had  either  overflowed,  or  given  way  (the  exact  nature  of 
the  disaster  was  as  yet  unknown),  and  that  the  whole  house  had 
in  a  moment  been  deluged  with  water.  The  fright  which  this 
intelligence  caused  her  proved  nearly  fatal  to  poor  Mrs.  Medlicott. 
Reuben  was  unable  to  leave  her  for  nearly  an  hour,  urgently  as 
his  presence  was  required  in  the  country.  When  he  got  to  Vir 
ginia,  he  found  the  house  empty.  The  Bishop  and  his  family, 
having  narrowly  escaped  with  their  lives,  had  taken  refuge  at  the 
Vicarage,  which  was  the  nearest  asylum  to  .them,  and  there  Reu 
ben  (after  a  rigid  inspection  of  his  hydraulic  arrangements,  too 
late  to  be  of  use  to  anybody)  found  them  all  in  a  most  dismal 
and  uncomfortable  pickle,  drying  their  clothes  at  a  great  fire  in 
the  kitchen,  and  relating  the  particulars  of  their  several  adven 
tures  and  escapes.  The  Bishop,  with  Tom  in  his  arms,  had  ac 
tually  escaped  with  only  his  old  dressing-gown  and  a  blanket  to 
cover  him. 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  good  nature  of  Mrs.  Primrose  and 
Mrs.  Wyndham ;  they  felt  for  Reuben  much  more  than  for 
themselves,  and  tried  to  speak  of  what  had  occurred  as  people 
do  of  that  class  of  fatalities  to  which  it  is  commonly  said  that 
the  best  regulated  houses  are  subject.  The  Bishop  was  in  a 
different  mood  ;  had  he  stormed  ever  so  furiously,  it  would  have 
alarmed  Reuben  less  than  the  savage  silence  which  he  obsti 
nately  maintained  the  whole  morning ;  not  that  he  so  much 
minded  the  wetting  he  got,  although  at  his  age  it  was  a  serious 
matter  ;  but  it  was  through  the  ceiling  of  the  room  wrhere  Tom 
and  his  nurse  slept  that  the  water  had  forced  its  passage  :  the 
wonderful  child  of  his  old  age  had  been  saved  by  little  short  of  a 
miracle;  so  that  it  was  very  well  his  lordship  governed  his 
tongue  as  he  did,  for  he  not  only  severely  blamed  himself  for 
his  foolish  journey  to  Chich ester,  but  even  repented  that  he  had 
ever  made  up  his  quarrel  with  his  unlucky  grandson. 

The  Bishop  never  opened  his  lips  until  he  heard  Reuben  say 


OB,  THE  COMING  MAN.  413 

to  Mrs.  Wyndham,  that  unfortunate  as  the  accident  was,  it  was 
no  more  than  a  carpenter  and  a  plumber  would  easily  set  to 
rights  in  a  few  hours,  so  that  all  would  be  snug  again  before 
night.  Then  his  lordship  called  to  his  servant,  and  directed  him 
to  order  post-horses  to  be  ready  to  start  tb.e  moment  their  clothes 
were  dry  and  breakfast  was  over ;  nor  was  much  said  by  any 
one  to  alter  his  resolution.  Reuben  merely  repeated  his  regret 
that  a  visit  from  which  he  had  promised  himself  so  much  plea 
sure  had  terminated  so  abruptly. 

"  Abruptly,  indeed  !"  muttered  the  Bishop ;  "  I  know  nothing 
more  abrupt  than  a  water-spout  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  It 
came  down,  sir,  over  Tom's  bed  like  the  falls  of  the  Rhine  at 
Schaffhausen  !" 

"  Those  are  disasters,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Medlicott,  in  a  philoso 
phising  and  soothing  tone  of  voice,  "  which  rarely  happen  twice 
in  the  course  of  a  man's  life." 

"  Not  to  the  same  person,"  said  the  Bishop. 

Nobody,  however,  caught  a  fever,  or  even  a  cold,  from  the 
accident  of  the  ni.;ht.  When  the  clothes  were  all  dry,  they  sat 
down  to  breakfast,  and  as  cheerless  a  meal  it  was  as  ever  a  fam 
ily  circle  sat  down  to.  It  was  dismal  out  of  doors  into  the  bar 
gain  ;  the  rain  continued  to  pour,  but  without  the  least  effect 
upon  the  Bishop's  determination  to  set  out.  Mr.  Medlicott  was 
really  the  only  person  to  be  pitied  of  the  party.  He  felt  more 
prostrated  by  this  spiteful  little  freak  of  Fortune,  than  he  had 
often  been  by  some  of  her  heaviest  blows.  His  female  friends 
embraced  him  tenderly  ;  and  perhaps  his  grandfather  himself 
felt  at  the  last  moment  that  his  conduct  had  been  too  harsh,  for 
he  shook  him  by  tire  hand  just  before  he  drove  off,  gave  him  his 
blessing,  and  advised  him  not  to  think  of  patching  his  roof,  but 
to  take  it  all  down  and  put  on  a  new  one. 

To  a  man  of  ordinary  steadiness  of  purpose,  such  an  incident 
as  we  have  just  recorded,  far  from  discomposing  the  whole  tenor 
of  his  existence,  would  have  been  no  more  than  a  slight  tempo 
rary  derangement,  such  as  everything  is  liable  to  beneath  the 
moon.  The  annoyance  of  to-day  would  have  been  the  jest  of  to 
morrow.  Such  a  man  would  have  straightway  repaired  his 
house,  and  resumed  his  ordinary  routine  of  living,  nor  would  all 
the  rain  in  the  clouds,  or  all  the  morose  old  bishops  and  grand 
fathers  in  the  world,  have  pushed  him  out  of  his  track  for  the 
space  of  twenty-four  hours.  But  there  was  no  firmness  in  the 
mind  of  Mr.  Medlicott,  and  consequently  no  stability  in  any 


414  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENII  S  J 

course  lie  adopted,  or  in  the  scheme  of  his  life  itself.  He  was 
just  the  kind  of  person  for  Fortune  to  crack  her  jokes  on,  and 
knock  about  at  her  caprice  and  pleasure.  His  grandsire  had 
never  hazarded  a  more  unlucky  prophecy  than  when  he  fore 
told  the  permanence  of  the  system  which  he  found  instituted, 
and  seemingly  so  flourishing,  among  the  flowers  and  herbs  of 
the  garden  at  Virginia.  It  may  be  said  to  have  died  while  the 
soothsayer  was  predicting  its  longevity.  Mr.  Medlicott,  indeed, 
directed  the  necessary  repairs  to  be  executed  in  the  dwelling- 
house,  but  he  never  returned  to  it.  His  wife  remained  seriously 
indisposed  for  some  time,  having  had  a  premature  confinement 
in  consequence  of  the  fright  she  had  received  ;  and  upon  her  re 
covery  he  took  her  with  him  to  London,  where  he  continued  to 
reside  as  long  as  his  official  connection  with  the  Court  of  Chan 
cery  lasted.  The  profits  of  that  place  continued  to  disappoint 
his  fair  expectations  ;  and  again  and  again  did  De  Tabley  and 
other  friends  remonstrate  with  him  on  the  imprudence  of  placing 
too  much  reliance  on  his  subordinates,  particularly  on  Mr.  Gos 
ling,  who  had  for  some  time  been  running  a  rig  which  might 
well  have  excited  the  suspicions  of  the  most  confiding  of  human 
beings.  He  had  chambers  in  the  Albany,  kept  a  cab  and  a 
tiger,  occasionally  drove  a  tandem,  was  a  member  of  Crockford's, 
and  was  even  rapidly  becoming  a  noted  character  on  the  turf.  If 
all  was  honest  and  straight,  there  certainly  was  not  a  young  man 
in  England  did  half  so  much  with  two  hundred  a-year  as  he 
did  ;  but  Mr.  Medlicott  was  either  not  to  be  shaken  in  the  con 
fidence  he  placed  in  his  dashing  godson,  or  he  could  not  bring 
himself  to  make  the  exertion  necessary  to  overhaul  his  accounts. 
The  Peace  Society,  however,  whose  funds  were  also  at  Mr.  Gos 
ling's  control,  was  not  so  negligent  of  its  affairs ;  and  several 
irregularities  having  been  detected  by  Mr.  Harvey  in  the  way 
the  moneys  were  lodged  and  the  books  kept,  a  committee  was 
named  to  scrutinise  everything;  and  at  the  conclusion  of  a  strict 
audit,  a  deficit  was  discovered  and  declared  against  the  treasurer 
to  the  extent  of  several  hundred  pounds.  There  did  not  exist  a 
doubt  on  the  mind  of  any  man  of  business  that  Gosling  had  em 
bezzled  this  sum  ;  but  Mr.  Medlicott  was  urged  in  vain  to  hold 
him  accountable  for  it.  He  refused  to  be  convinced  that  his 
officer  was  morally  responsible;  the  money  might  have  slipped 
through  his  fingers,  but  Jie  felt  assured  it  had  never  stuck  to  his 
hands ;  nay,  so  positive  was  he  upon  the  subject,  that  he  re 
placed  the  deficit  entirely  out  of  his  own  pocket,  not  even  re 
quiring  Mr.  Gosling  to  contribute  a  single  shilling. 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  415 

Folly  succeeded  folly,  in  a  quick  march.  The  salary  grew 
"fine  by  decrees  and  beautifully  less,"  until  at  length  it  fell  to 
little  more  than  four  hundred  a-year;  when  Mr.  Medlieott,  with 
a  wife  and  five  children,  found  it  more  difficult  to  provide  a  plain 
dinner  for  them,  than  his  clerk  did  to  enteuain  a  party  of  twenty 
fast  men  like  himself  at  Lovegrove's  or  Richardson's.  Reuben 
now  bethought  him  of  those  mines  in  Brazil,  in  which  he  had  a 
few  thousand  pounds  invested  ;  and  the  secretaryship  of  the  min 
ing  company  falling  vacant,  he  applied  for  it,  and  obtained  it 
easily.  This  set  him  up  again  in  the  world,  for  the  salary  was, 
seven  hundred  a  year,  and  there  was  a  commodious  residence  at 
tached,  which  saved  .him  the  rent  of  a  house,  and  other  incidental 
expenses.  So  completely  was  he  engrossed  by  this  new  employ 
ment,  into  which  he  entered  with  scientific  ardour,  as  well  as  with 
official  enthusiasm,  that  he  now  treated  the  place  in  Chancery 
more  carelessly  than  ever,  and  left  the  management  of  every 
thing  to  Mr.  Gosling,  who  soon  evinced  his  gratitude,  no  less 
than  his  ingenuity,  in  a  very  striking  manner. 

The  house  where  Mr.  Medlieott  now  lived  was  in  Duke 
Street,  Westminster.  One  morning,  just  as  Reuben  rose  from 
the  breakfast  table,  a  gay  cab  drove  up  to  the  door,  with  a  gay 
horse  and  a  gay  tiger ;  but  neither  cab,  horse,  nor  tiger  was  half 
so  gay  as  the  young  man  who  jumped  out  and  inquired  for  Mr. 
Medlieott.  Reuben  had  not  seen  his  right-hand  man  for  several 
months,  and  received  him  with  the  utmost  graciousness  and  cor 
diality.  Mr.  Gosling  came  with  a  carefully-matured  plan  for 
securing  his  chief  tlw  enjoyment  of  his  present  salary  for  life,  and 
at  the  same  time  relieving  him  from  even  the  shadow  of  duty 
and  responsibility.  The  scheme  was  this.  Mr.  Medlieott  was  to 
resign,  and  Mr.  Gosling,  having  interest  to  obtain  the  appoint 
ment,  was  to  succeed  him,  entering  at  the  same  time  into  a  pri 
vate  compact  to  pay  him  a  yearly  sum  equal  to  the  existing 
emoluments  of  the  office  during  his  natural  life.  In  fact,  this 
ambitious  and  enterprising  young  man  only  wanted  rank  and  po 
sition  ;  salary  was  a  secondary  consideration  with  him.  He 
doted  on  business,  idolised  nothing  but  his  desk ;  he  was  in  his 
element,  he  said,  in  the  midst  of  that  dull  official  routine,  which- 
(he  could  well  understand)  must  be  so  unspeakably  disgusting  to 
a  man  of  Mr.  Medlicott's  splendid  abilities.  Strange  to  say,  the 
principal  objection  Reuben  saw  to  this  project  was,  that  Mr.  Gos 
ling  proposed  to  deal  too  handsomely  with  him  in  a  pecuniary 
way.  If  that  point  could  be  equitably  adjusted,  and  if  his  god- 


416  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

son  really  had  the  interest  he  spoke  of,  the  arrangement  would 
be  t<5  himself  an  extremely  agreeable  one. 

"  It  would  in  fact,  sir,  be  to  you  the  same  as  a  perfectly  well 
secured  annuity  of  between  four  and  five  hundred  a-year." 

"I  should  be  only  too  well  off,"  said  Mr.  Medhcott,  "as 
things  are  now ;  but  the  office  was  worth  more  than  eight  hun 
dred  a-year  when  I  was  prevailed  on  to  accept  it." 

"  It  was  always  utterly  beneath  you,  sir,"  said  his  flattering 
godson. 

"  Why,  so  I  thought  myself  at  the  time,"  said  Reuben  ;  "  but 
I  was  married,  and  my  friends  got  about  me  and  insisted  that  a 
certainty  of  even  eight  hundred  a-year,  was  better  than  an  in 
come  of  a  couple  of  thousands  at  the  end  of  a  .vista  of  hopes  and 
imaginings." 

"  Will  you  believe  me,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Gosling,  "  I  never  could 
bear  to  hear  you  called  a  clerk  in  Chancery." 

"  You  say  'you  have  interest  to  obtain  the  place  ?" 

"  Beyond  all  doubt,  sir,  if  there  is  faith  to  be  placed  in  human 
promises.  My  friend,  the  member  for  Newmarket,  will  vote 
against  Government  if  they  refuse  me ;  and  another  most  par 
ticular  friend  of  mine,  member  for  some  place  in  Connaught,  who 
asks  for  everything  and  gets  everything  he  asks  for,  is  ready  to 
go  to  the  Chancellor  to-morrow,  if  I  have  only  the  good  fortune 
to  obtain  your  consent  to  the  arrangement." 

"All  I  will  say  to  you  now,"  said  Reuben,  "  is  that  there  are 
points  of  view  in  which  I  like  what  you  propose ;  but  there  are 
others  which,  to  say  the  least  of  them,  require  very  mature  con 
sideration.  I  will  reflect  upon  the  matter,  consult  friends,  and 
in  a  few  days  acquaint  you  with  the  result." 

With  that  result  we  shall  make  the  reader  acquainted  at 
once.  In  the  teeth  of  the  strenuous  advice  and  remonstrance  of 
every  friend  he  had  in  the  world,  capable  of  advising  him  on  the 
subject,  Mr.  Medlicott,  within  a  few  months  of  the  opening  of 
the  negotiation,  accepted  the  terms  offered  him  by  Mr.  Gosling ; 
and  not  only  gave  up  his  lucrative  situation  upon  no  better  secu 
rity  than  the  honour  of  a  scapegrace,  but  actually  obtained  the 
appointment  for  him,  through  his  influence  with  his  old  friend 
Lord  Appleby. 

It  was  singular,  but  from  the  moment  that  Mr.  Gosling  be 
came  the  head  of  that  office  in  Chancery  the  fees  returned ;  the 
tide  of  emoluments  began  to  flow  rapidly  again.  Indeed,  Mr. 
Gosling  made  no  secret  of  it,  and  for  a  couple  of  years  he  made 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  417 

his  quarterly  payments  to  Mr.  Medlicott,  according  to  their  pri 
vate  agreement,  with  a  punctuality  that  did  him  the  greatest 
credit.  One  of  these  years  was  passed  by  Reuben  in  Brazil,  on 
a  special  mission  from  the  company,  to  examine  and  report  on 
the  state  of  the  mines  in  their  possession.  He  learned  Portu 
guese  expressly  for  the  society  of  Buenos- Ayres,  and  contrived  to 
make  a  good  deal  of  noise  on  his  return  to  England,  by  means 
of  his  contributions  to  the  principal  museums  and  scientific  socie 
ties  of  the  metropolis.  Among  other  things,  he  presented  the 
menagerie  in  the  Regent's  Park  with  a  splendid  collection  ol 
macaws  and  parrots,  one  of  which  proved  a  singularly  eloquent 
bird ;  and,  having  been  taught,  during  the  voyage,  to  pronounce 
the  name  of  the  donor,  helped  to  extend  Mr.  Medlicott's  notoriety 
among  a  very  numerous  section  of  the  public. 


418  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 


BOOK  THE  TENTH. 


"  Therefore  I  perceive  a  man  may  be  twice  a  child  before  the  age  of  dotage,  aad 
stand  in  need  of  -d-son's  bath  before  threescore."— ReliQio  Medici. 


ARGUMENT. 

IT  is  not  the  phenomenon  of  a  few  gray  hairs,  n»r  the  stolen  march  of  a 
wrinkle,  that  marks  the  melancholy  turning  of  the  tide  of  life,  but  the 
first  overshadowing  of  the  mind  with  despondencies  and  self-upbraidings, 
the  first  sense  of  the  difficulty  of  hoping,  and  the  vanity  of  intending  and 
designing;  when  to  purpose  and  to  dream,  once  our  easiest  and  most  de 
lightful  occupations,  have  become  a  Sisyphian  labour.  Then  have  we 
begun  to  grow  old,  when  the  first  sigh  escapes  us  for  the  pledges  of  youth 
unredeemed,  or  when  we  look  into  the  kingdom  within  us,  and  perceive 
how  few  of  its  abuses  we  have  reformed  in  the  palmy  days  of  our  power ; 
then  shuddering  think  that  the  time  of  the  fulfilling  of  promises  and  the 
correction  of  faults  has  passed ;  that  the  day  is  far  spent  and  the  night  is 
at  hand ; — 

"  "When  thoughts  arise  of  errors  past, 
Of  prospects  foully  overcast, 
Of  passion's  unresisted  rage, 
Of  youth  that  thought  not  upon  ago." 

These  are  the  reflections  that  extinguish  the  "pxirpureum  lumen,"  that 
put  out  the  youthful  fire ;  he  that  is  acquainted  with  remorse,  whether  it 
comes  of  folly  or  of  crime,  is  already  stricken  in  years,  as  old  as  Priam, 
though  he  may  bear  himself  as  gallantly  as  Paris.  But  some  there  are  to 
whom  these  dreary  thoughts  come  late,  and  who  uphold  themselves  with 
wondrous  strength  and  bravery  under  the  weight  of  misspent  hours. 
Hope  is  often  an  Atlas  that  will  bear  a  world  of  disappointments  on  his 
shoulders;  and  should  he  ever  totter,  Vanity  is  at  hand,  like  another 
Hercules,  to  relieve  him.  How  many  men  do  we  not  see  in  the  world 
more  confident  after  a  thousand  failures,  than  others  after  a  large  measure 
of  success?  Men,  who  never  know  that  they  are  conquered,  but  imagine 
themselves  still  mounting,  and  crow  and  clap  their  wings,  as  if  the  firma 
ment  was  still  their  own,  when  with  their  heavy  or  broken  pinions  the 
height  of  the  barley-mow  is  almost  beyond  their  flight.  Folly  is  attended 
by  a  troop  of  spurious  merits,  the  apes  of  Wisdom's  body-guard,  a  false 


OR,  THE   COMING   MA]ST.  419 

fortitude  which  is  nothing  but  groundless  self-assurance,  a  bastard  indus 
try  which  is  only  a  fatiguing  idleness,  a  magnanimity  from  which 
nothing  conies  that  is  great  Ardelio  grown  old,  and  with  one  foot  in 
the  grave,  is  Ardelio  stilL 

"Ta  secanda  marmora 
Locas  sub  ipguin  funua,  et  sepulcri 
Iininemor  struis  doinos." 

A  species  of  happiness  follows,  no  doubt,  in  the  train  of  the  mimic  vir 
tues,  which  strutting  Folly  trails  behind  her  in  her  conceited  progress  to 
the  last.  The  man  who  has  disappointed  the  world  has  thoroughly  de 
ceived  himself,  and  fancies  he  is  still  the  admiration  and  the  hope  of  his 
age,  when  he  lias  only  earned  the  "monstrari  digito,"  to  be  pointed  at  as 
one  example  more  of  the  downcome  of  overweening  confidence,  with  the 
additional  moral  of  many  shining  talents  lost  for  the  want  of  a  few  plain 
ones. 

How  benevolent  is  Hope,  however,  which,  if  it  betrays  a  man  in  his 
early  hours,  cleaves  to  him  often  so  faithfully  in  his  latter  days — 

"  Hope  I  of  all  ills  that  men  endure, 
The  only  cheap  and  universal  cure! 
Thou  captive's  freedom,  and  thou  sick  man's  health, 

Thou  loser's  victory,  and  thou  beggar's  wealth, 

Thou  manna  which  from  heaven  we  eat, 

fo  every  taste  a  se  reral  meat ! 

Thou  strong  retreat ! — thou  sure-entailed  estate 

R'hich  nought  has  power  to  alienate. 

"fhou  pleasant,  honest  flatterer,  for  none 
Flatter  unhappy  men,  but  thou  alone." 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  LAST  EFFORT  OF  GENIUS. 

THE  reader  may  probably  recollect  Barsac  Square,  in  the  environs 
of  Hereford — one  of  the  joint  building-speculations  of  Bishop 
"Wyndham  and  Mr.  Barsac.  Only  three  houses  had  ever  been 
finished,  and  these,  with  other  property  of  the  same  nature,  had 
passed  into  the  hands  of  Mr.  Cox,  in  the  final  settlement  of  his 
pecuniary  transactions  with  the  Bishop.  In  one  of  these  houses 
Mr.  Medlicott  took  up  his  residence  at  a  nominal  rent,  shortly 
after  his  return  from  Brazil.  It  was  furnished  with  more  expense 
and  ostentation,  than  propriety  or  comfort;  for  the  Barsacs 
themselves  had  occupied  it  for  a  season,  and  had  fitted  it  up 
with  their  usual  taste  in  such  matters.  Among  other  things. 


420  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

they  had  brought  down  from  London  that  magnificent  bed  with 
the  purple  velvet  curtains  fringed  with  gold  lace,  which  had  been 
bought  for  their  venerable  son-in-law,  at  the  time  of  his  advance 
ment  to  the  mitre.  It  was  placed  in  the  principal  bedroom,  and 
actually  slept  in  by  Mr.  Medlicott  himself,  although  too  stately  a 
couch  for  the  Bishop. 

Old  Hannah  Hopkins  was  no  more,  when  Reuben  returned 
from  South  America,  and  he  had  previously  tried  whether  the 
cottage  which  she  had  long  tenanted  would  suit  him  ;  but  whether 
it  was  that  its  accommodation  was  defective,  or  that  he  found 
living  at  Chichester  unpleasant,  associated  as  that  place  was  with 
the  most  signal  failure  of  his  life,  he  was  certainly  well  pleased 
when  the  handsomer  and  more  spacious  dwelling  at  Hereford 
was  placed  at  his  disposal.  There  was  probably  a  good  deal  of 
morbid  pride  in  this  preference  of  the  three-storied  house  in 
Barsac  Square,  to  a  simple  cottage  in  a  quiet  green  lane.  Time 
was  when  Mr.  Medlicott's  affectation  would  have  led  him  to  make 
the  very  opposite  choice.  Then,  he  fancied  himself  important 
enough  to  exalt  and  dignify  the  humblest  abode.  Now,  he  had 
probably  some  secret  misgivings  on  that  point,  and  felt  no  longer 
conscious  of  the  power  to  elevate  a  cottage  into  a  great  house 
by  conferring  upon  it  the  honour  of  his  residence. 

How  he  carried  on  the  war  of  life  at  this  period — that  is  to 
say,  how  the  sinews  of  war  were  provided — was  a  mystery  to 
everybody ;  for  his  connection  with  the  mining  company  ceased 
in  consequence  of  his  report,  which  offended  a  majority  of  the 
directors ;  and  his  receipts  from  Mr.  Gosling  had  dwindled  to 
zero — a  quantity  on  which  only  mathematicians  can  operate  with 
success.  Yet  he  continued,  one  way  or  another,  to  hold  up  his 
head  in  the  world,  and  there  was  nothing  of  seediness  about  him, 
no  symptom  as  yet  of  bleakness ;  on  the  contrary,  there  was 
much  more  of  the  air  and  appearance  of  the  prosperous  than 
the  decayed  gentleman.  As  to  external  appearances,  indeed,  he 
seemed  more  careful  about  them  now  tl*an  ever,  His  family 
made  as  great  a  show  in  the  cathedral  on  Sundays,  as  the  Barsacs 
were  wont  to  do  when  he  was  a  boy ;  and  though  he  adhered 
himself  to  the  vegetarian  diet  (upon  which  he  seemed  to  thrive 
uncommonly  well),  his  mode  of  living  was  costly  enough  in  other 
ways ;  his  house  was  always  open  to  his  fanatical  admirers  from 
London,  who  made  no  scruple  of  Pigwidgeoning  him  as  he  had 
Pigwidgeoned  them  on  many  a  former  occasion;  and  he  manifestly 
spared  no  expense,  either  in  the  education  of  his  children,  or  on 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  421 

their  dress  and  amusements,  all  of  which  were  upon  a  scale 
which  required  a  good  fortune  to  support  it.  It  was  his  taste, 
evidently,  that  predominated  in  all  these  matters.  Everybody 
who  knew  his  wife  knew  very  well  that  it  was  not  for  her  gratifi 
cation  little  Chichester  and  his  sisters  were  fantastically  habited 
.in  scarlet  tunics,  with  caps  and  feathers,  and  trotted  about  Here 
ford  and  its  suburbs  on  minute  cream-coloured  ponies,  attended 
by  a  black  groom  (the  same  Pompey  who  had  lived  with  him 
in  Picaclilly),  as  if  they  were  the  children  of  a  millionnaire,  or 
the  progeny  of  Ducrow  or  Astley.  It  was  very  well  known  that 
tbese  were  altogether  Mr.  Medlicott's  whims  and  follies,  and  there 
was  many  a  speculation  upon  the  source  that  supplied  such 
extravagance,  as  well  as  upon  the  issue  and  results  of  it. 

The  Finchley  school  still  existed  ;  nay,  was  more  flourishing 
than  in  former  times,  although  Mr.  Brough  was  now  stricken  in 
years,  and  beginning  to  be  talked  about  as  too  old  for  the  manage 
ment  of  a  large  seminary.  Mr.  Medlicott  was  very  kind  to  his 
ancient  master,  possibly  a  little  too  patronising — an  air  which 
had  much  grown  upon  him  of  late,  and  offended  many  of  his 
acquaintances,  while  it  merely  curled  the  lips  of  others  with  a 
contemptuous  smile.  The  older  Mr.  Brough  grew,  he  was  natu 
rally  only  the  more  wedded  to  the  system  of  instruction  over 
which  he  had  presided  the  greater  part  of  his  life ;  and  as  Mr. 
Medlicott  had  his  mind  full  of  a  hundred"  new-fangled  ideas  on 
the  same  subject,  some  of  which  he  had  brought  home  with  him 
from  his  visit  to  the  United  States,  while  others  he  was  probably 
the  author  or  inventor  of  himself, — there  was  ample  subject  for 
controversy  between  old  pupil  and  old  master,  and  many  a 
discussion,  they  had  upon  such  matters,  sometimes  calm  and 
sometimes  stormy  enough.  Harvey,  the  Quaker,  happening  one 
day  to  be  present  at  a  conversation  of  this  kind,  Reuben  held 
forth  with  more  than  his  usual  ardour,  upon  what  he  considered 
the  true  code  of  educational  principles,  lamented  that  they  had 
never  been  tried  upon  a  sufficiently  large  scale,  spoke  of  the 
experiment  as  the  noblest  that  could  engage  the  mind  of  the 
philosopher  or  the  philanthropist,  and  prophesied  splendid  moral 
revolutions  and  glorious  intellectual  millenniums,  to  date  from  the 
happy  day  of  the  realisation  of  his  views.  Harvey  listened,  as 
usual,  with  his  eyes  and  mouth,  no  less  than  his  ears,  drinking 
in  all  these  fine  phrases  and  admirable  speculations,  as  if  he  was 
sitting  at  the  feet  of  a  Plato  or  an  Aristotle.  Poor  Mr.  Brough 
was  overwhelmed  with  the  fluency  of  his  opponent,  and  could 


422  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  } 

only  reply  by  shaking  his  hoary  head  sceptically,  and  entering 
a  general  protest  against  what  he  called  quackeries,  meaning 
thereby  every  departure  from  the  method  of  his  own  institution. 

This  little  conversation — if  conversation  it  can  fairly  be  called, 
in  which  hardly  anybody  talked  but  Mr.  Medlicott — led  to  the 
last  public  undertaking  of  any  consequence  in  which  that  gentle 
man  took  an  active  and  leading  part.  Shortly  after  Harvey 
returned  to  London,  he  addressed  a  rigmarole  letter  to  Reuben 
upon  the  general  subject  of  middle-class  education,  conjuring 
him  to  take  it  up  with  energy,  assuring  him  that  no  other  man 
living  was  equal  to  so  mighty  a  task,  and  ending  with  a  proposal 
for  some  sort  of  a  joint-stock  educational  company,  with  a  gover 
nor,  a  board  of  directors,  and  a  capital  of  fifty  thousand  pounds. 
The  answer  which  Mr.  Medlicott  returned  was  an  elaborate 
specimen  of  his  imposing  quasi-philosophical,  chiaro-oscuro  style; 
and  both  epistles  were  immediately  published  by  Harvey,  not 
only  in  the  newspapers,  but  in  the  form  of  a  penny  tract,  as 
easily  disseminated  as  a  pinch  of  thistle-down,  to  which,  indeed, 
in  point  of  weight  and  practical  usefulness,  it  bore  no  faint 
resemblance.  It  told,  however,  with  the  desired  effect  upon  a 
sufficiently  large  portion  of  the  public  to  answer  Harvey's  pur 
poses  completely.  Letters  of  cordial  approval  came  rapidly 
pouring  in  from  enthusiasts,  fanatics,  zealots,  dupes,  and  block 
heads,  of  both  sexes  and  all  persuasions ;  and  these  were  soon 
followed  by  the  tender  of  such  liberal  subscriptions  to  raise  the 
necessary  funds,  that  in  a  few  weeks  there  was  a  sufficient  sum 
in  the  bank  to  make  an  immediate  commencement  of  the  enter 
prise  feasible. 

However,  the  commencement  was  deferred,  in  order  to  afford 
Mr.  Medlicott  time  to  agitate  upon  the  subject  in  England,  Ire 
land,  and  Scotland,  a  mission  upon  which  he  was  sent  by  the 
unanimous  vote  of  a  public  meeting,  and  which  he  undertook 
with  all  the  fervour  and  excitement  of  his  early  days.  Now  was 
he  in  his  congenial  element  once  more,  wielding  his  old  hammer 
daily,  surrounded  by  a  swarm  of  wild  admirers  and  blind  wor 
shippers;  a  prophet,  or  a  mountebank,  according  as  he  fell  in 
with  a  mob  of  hot-headed  enthusiasts  or  a  few  discreet  people, 
in  the  course  of  his  rambles. 

It  was  probably  a  most  convenient  arrangement,  just  at  this 
crisis,  for  Mr.  Medlicott  to  turn  schoolmaster,  although,  of  course, 
it  was  not  a  thing  to  be  done  without  a  flourish  of  trumpets,  and 
a  great  deal  of  previous  parade,  to  throw  the  air  of  a  grand 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  423 

enterprise  over  the  acceptance  of  such  an  employment.  Soon 
after  Iris  return  from  his  speechifying  tour,  he  was  again  com 
missioned  to  select  a  proper  site  for  the  projected  establishment. 
It  had  been  decided  to  purchase  some  large  mansion,  with  a  park 
or  extensive  grounds  surrounding  it :  and  after  visiting  and  in 
specting  a  great  many  country-seats  which  were  then  in  the 
market,  he  was  making  up  his  mind  where  to  pitch  his  choice, 
when  his  grandfather,  being  anxious  to  dispose  of  Westbury, 
offered  it  to  the  company  for  so  moderate  a  sum,  that  Reuben 
recommended  them  to  purchase  it:  and  accordingly  at  Westbury 
the  Grand  Joint-stock  Liberal  and  Enlightened  Education  Com 
pany  was  established,  and  in  a  very  short  time  in  actual  opera 
tion,  under  Mr.  Medlicott  as  Preceptor-General,  for  such  was  the 
imposing  title  he  assumed. 

The  Bishop  had  no  notion  of  encouraging  the  scheme,  when 
he  offered  his  house  to  the  projectors ;  indeed  he  had  tried  in 
vain  to  comprehend  the  principles  set  forth  in  the  prospectus, 
and  after  reading  some  of  Mr.  Medlicott's  speeches  declared  that 
they  only  rendered  the  obscurity  still  more  obscure.  But  Friend 
Harvey  and  some  of  his  broad-brimmed  brethren  were  so  hot 
upon  the  subject,  and  proportionably  unscrupulous,  that  they 
gave  out  in  all  quarters  that  their  institution  had  the  sanction 
and  patronage  of  the  learned  Bishop  of  Shrewsbury ;  whereupon 
the  latter  (as  pugnacious  at  fourscore  and  ten  as  at  forty)  pub 
lished  a  letter  of  contradiction,  in  which  he  unfortunately  com 
mitted  himself  by  speaking  most  contemptuously  of  the  project, 
at  the  same  time  affirming  that  he  knew  no  more  about  it  than 
the  babe  unborn.  This  led  to  a  stiff  reply  in  Harvey's  name, 
but  written  by  Mr.  Medlicott ;  and  to  this  reply  the  Bishop  re 
joined,  all  which  was  as  favourable  to  the  projectors  as  possible,  for 
it  excited  public  curiosity,  and  gave  that  notoriety  to  their  estab 
lishment  which  to  quacks  of  all  descriptions  is  an  object  of  so 
much  importance.  Another  circumstance  also,  which  took  place 
at  the  same  time,  tended  to  the  same  result.  Mr.  Medlicott,  on 
leaving  Barsac  Square,  sold  his  stud  of  little  cream-coloured 
ponies  to  Mr.  Leadenhall,  who  had  married  one  of  Mrs.  Wynd- 
ham's  sisters.  A  warranty  was  given  in  the  usual  way  with  the 
ponies,  upon  which  a  dispute  arose,  and  there  was  an  action  and 
a  trial  about  it,  which  involved  a  great  many  curious  and  amus 
ing  circumstances,  and  caused  Mr.  Medlicott  to  be  a  great  deal 
talked  about,  which  was  desirable  at  the  moment,  and,  indeed, 
was  never  at  any  time  very  disagreeable  to  him. 


424  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  } 

The  Westbury  Collegiate  institution  for  the  education  of 
youth  upon  the  most  enlarged  principles  of  mental  and  moral 
philosophy — such  was  the  announcement  of  its  pretensions — 
opened  with  one  hundred  boys ;  but  after  all  the  fuss  made 
about  the  novelty  of  its  system  and  regulations,  there  was  nothing 
in  them  for  the  first  year  that  was  either  very  attractive  to  the 
lovers  of  novelty,  or  very  formidable  to  those  who  were  partial 
to  old  methods.  Lectures  in  a  great  measure  superseded  tasks. 
Botany,  geology,  and  natural  history  were  combined  with  ex 
ercise,  and  communicated  peripatetically.  Modern  languages 
were  taught  in  a  manner  little  more  oppressive  to  the  students; 
and  remonstrances,  either  private  or  public,  were  introduced  in 
place  of  the  punishments  commonly  resorted  to  in  schools. 

But  the  mind  of  the  Preceptor-General  was  not  long  content 
with  deviations  so  modest  as  these  from'  the  ordinary  system  of 
education.  After  long  brooding  upon  the  subject,  not  without 
tot  much  reference  to  what  he  considered  due  to  his  own  reputa 
tion  for  originality,  he  convened  a  meeting  of  the  committee  of 
directors,  and  propounded  a  scheme  for  what  he  called  a  new 
organisation  of  the  establishment. 

It  was  quite  as  radical  a  scheme  for  a  school  as  Henry  Hunt 
and- other  political  visionaries  were  broaching  at  the  same  time 
for  the  nation.  Several  pupils  were  withdrawn  on  the  first  inti 
mation  that  such  a  plan  even  existed  on  paper.  Some  of  the 
directors  thought  Mr.  Medlicott  stark  mad  ;  but  the  faith  of  the 
majority  in  him  was  not  so  easily  shaken.  A  man  of  his  stamp 
must  be  allowed  to  have  original  ideas;  and  it  was  only  fair  to 
give  whatever  he  might  propose  the  fullest  and  maturest  con 
sideration.  Repeated  meetings  were  held  in  the  board-room  at 
Westbury,  and  at  the  end  of  the  discussions  the  directors  divided 
on  the  question  of  adopting  or  rejecting  the  innovations.  They 
were  carried  by  a  majority  of  six  to  three,  and  two  of  the  mino 
rity  immediately  threw  up  the  undertaking. 

Reuben  carried  another  favourite  point  of  his  on  the  same 
occasion,  the  appointment  of  his  old  friend  Doctor  Page  to  the 
situation  of  physician  to  the  institution,  with  a  salary,  apartments, 
and  coals  and  candles.  A  more  injudicious  appointment  could 
hardly  have  been  made,  for  Page  was  now  a  prosy  old  man,  and 
had  latterly  forfeited  his  reputation  for  good  sense  and  medical 
skill  by  running  wild  after  homoeopathy,  and  professing  to  cure 
all  human  distempers,  no  matter  how  inveterate  or  malignant. 
with  pills  of  too  minute  a  size  to  be  seen  without  the  help  of  a 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  425 

powerful  microscope.  To  this  egregious  system  he  was  not  long 
in  making  Mr.  Medlicott  a  convert,  and  Mr.  Medlicott  in  return 
made  Doctor  Page  a  proselyte  to  his  vegetarian  and  aquarian 
practices.  The  two  luminaries,  thus  happily,  reunited  after  a 
separation  of  many  years,  used  to  sit  over  their  crofts  of  an  eve 
ning,  glorying  in  their  common  absurdities,  and  praying  for  the 
time  to  come  when  all  the  world  would  be  as  absurd  as  them 
selves. 


CHAPTER    II. 

FOLLY  INTERRUPTED  BY   SOEEOW. 

THE  Westbury  Institution,  on  the  new  model,  was  a  free  school 
in  the  strictest  sense  of  the  word.  It  was  expressly  established 
on  the  principle  of  unlimited  confidence  in  the  honour  of  the 
scholars,  or  alumni,  as  they  were  designated.  The  compulsions 
were  altogether  of  a  moral  nature.  Task-work  was  almost  en 
tirely  superseded  by  lectures,  which  were  to  be  either  aulic,  or 
peripatetic  (signifying  in  plain  English,  in-doors,  or  out-of-doors), 
according  to  the  season  and  the  nature  of  the  subject.  The 
classes,  or  chambers,  as  they  were  called,  were  formed  upon  psycho- 
phrenological  principles,  which,  as  the  phrase  vastly  delighted 
old  Mrs.  Medlicott,  we  must  charitably  hope  that  she  understood 
what  it  meant.  The  Preceptor-General  was,  of  course,  the  prin 
cipal  lecturer  himself.  It  was  his  prerogative  to  lecture  at  all 
hours  and  upon  all  topics;  but  the  subjects  he  reserved  especially 
for  himself  were  Rhetoric,  the  Conduct  of  the  Understanding, 
and  the  Spirit  of  the  British  Constitution.  The  latter  was  one 
of  \hhe  peripatetic  courses ;  for,  as  our  Anglo-Saxon  liberties 
originated  in  the  forests,  Mr.  Medlicott  was  of  opinion  that  there 
was  a  peculiar  propriety  and  advantage  in  explaining  the  nature 
of  them  walking  in  the  woods,  surrounded  by  the  sylvan  in 
fluences.  But  he  also  proposed  to  instill  the  spirit  of  our  re 
presentative  institutions  in  a  practical  manner,  and  for  this  pur 
pose  he  ordained  that  all  the  games  and  festivals  of  the  school 
should  be  settled  by  a  council  elected  annually  by  universal 
suffrage  and  the  ballot.  The  meals  were  to  be  on  a  model  some 
thing  between  an  Attic  symposium  and  the  convivial  usages  of 
the  Utopians.  The  bill-  of-fare  for  each  week  was  to  be  fixed  by 


426  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

an  elective  committee,  within  certain  limits  of  variety  ana  ex 
pense.  Grace  was  to  be  said  by  the  students  in  rotation,  but 
never  any  two  days  in  the  week  in  the  same  language;  and  there 
were  to  be  Italian,  French,  and  German  tables,  where  such  students 
as  desired  to  improve  themselves  in  those  languages,  by  using 
them  exclusively,  might  sit,  if  they  pleased.  A  corps  of  readers 
and  declaimers  was  appointed  monthly,  who  were  to  have  their 
meals  earlier  than  the  rest,  in  order  to  be  at  leisure  to  recite 
pieces  of  poetry,  or  declaim  passages  from  the  ancient  or  modern 
orators,  to  entertain  their  fellow-students  at  dinner.  It  was  also 
to  be  the  duty  of  these  declaimers,  Avhen  any  charge  was  brought 
against  a  cook,  to  send  for  the  delinquent,  and  remonstrate  with 
her  in  full  symposium  ;  a  pleasant  institution,  attended  with  the 
advantage  of  accustoming  the  boys  to  speak  at  a  moment's  notice 
upon  questions,  not  of  imaginary,  but  real  interest.  On  certain 
days  of  peculiar  festivity,  the  alumni  were  to  be  encouraged  to 
tririe  elegantly  and  classically  with  anagrams,  riddles,  impromptu 
verses,  and  Spartan  repartees.  There  were  even  prizes  for  dis 
tinguished  merit  in  these  exercises,  the  highest  being  for  the  best 
extempore  iambics  on  a  cook  found  guilty  of  over-seasoning,  ex 
cessive  boiling,  or  any  similar  misdemeanour.  Dorothy,  who  was 
always  in  scrapes,  was  twice  roasted  for  over-roasting,  and  Jenny 
herself  was  more  than  once  in  a  stew. 

Proficiency  in  general  was  tested  by  quarterly  "investiga 
tions  of  progress,"  held  at  the  equinoxes  and  solstices — words 
which  pleased  a  multitude  of  fathers  and  mothers  infinitely  more 
than  the  vulgar  names  of  the  seasons.  To  the  solstitial  investi 
gations,  all  the  learned  men  in  the  kingdom  were  to  be  invited, 
arid  formed  into  a  court  or  jury,  which  (after  hearing  a  charge 
from  the  Preceptor-General)  was  to  proceed  to  the  performance 
of  its  duties.  The  occasions  for  haranguing  created  by  the  fun 
damental  rules  were  amusingly  frequent.  The  system  of  re 
monstrance  was  eminently  favourable  to  the  gratification  of  the 
Preceptor-General's  ruling  passion.  After  two  private  remon 
strances,  the  student  was  liable  to  a  public  one ;  and  after  a 
second  infliction  of  that  kind,  the  offender  was  to  be  proclaimed 
to  be  "  at  large,"  which  was  the  courteous  phrase  for  a  boy's  ex 
pulsion.  One  of  the  oddest  of  all  the  regulations,  but  growing 
naturally  out  of  the  principle  of  confidence,  was  the  following : 
any  student  might  absent  himself  from  lectures  upon  a  certifi 
cate  signed  by  two  other  students  of  the  same  chamber  to  the 
effect  that  he  was  indisposed,  or  pre-occupied  by  distressing  or 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  427 

interesting  news  from  home.  But  as  tbis  xisage  was  obviously 
open  to  abuse,  it  was  guarded  by  the  delivery,  once  a  quarter, 
of  a  grave  address  to  the  students,  in  full  assembly,  upon  the 
beauty  of  truth  and  upon  moral  obligations  in  general,  which 
furnished  the  eloquent  head  of  the  establishment  with  one  peri 
odical  opportunity  more  for  addressing  his  ever-attentive  and 
submissive  audience. 

Mr.  Medlicott,  in  fact,  realised  in  this  institution  what  may 
be  said  to  have  been  the  great  idea  of  his  life,  namely,  that 
everything  in  this  world  is  to  be  done  best  by  talking. 

Few  sane  people,  it  will  easily  be  believed,  sent  their  sons  to 
Westbury,  when  the  system  we  have  described  was  published 
abroad.  But  there  were  fools  enough  to  admire,  applaud,  and  pa 
tronise  it  with  all  its  absurdities^nd  it  actually  stood  its  ground 
against  a  prodigious  amount  01  ridicule  for  nearly  three  years, 
during  which  some  changes,  no  doubt,  were  made  in  the  details  of 
the  management,  but  with  very  little  tendency  to  more  rational 
"egulations.  There  was  something  to  fascinate  various  fanatical 
ictions  of  the  public.  Mr.  Medlicott  personally  adhered  to  the 
fegetarian  system,  and  presided  himself  at  a  table  expressly  set 
apart  for  those  scholars  whose  parents  wished  to  bring  up  their 
children  in  blissful  ignorance  of  beef  and  mutton.  The  Peace 
Societies  were  gratified  by  a  fundamental  ordinance  against 
fighting  of  every  kind,  and  the  use  of  gunpowder,  for  any  pur 
pose  whatever,  even  to  fire  a  sixpenny  brass  cannon.  A  .  boy 
was  solemnly  remonstrated  with,  soon  after  the  establishment 
opened,  for  letting  off  a  squib ;  and  the  Preceptor-General 
availed  himself  of  that  opportunity  for  explaining  the  proper 
method  of  receiving  an  invading  army,  should  the  shores  of 
England  ever  be  outraged.  This  method  consisted  simply  in 
resolutely  ignoring  the  military  character  of  the  transaction,  per 
sisting  in  looking  at  it  in  the  light  of  a  friendly  visit  paid  by 
some  fifty  thousand  men  of  a  particular  nation,  in  a  particular 
costume,  to  the  people  of  another  nation,  and  considering  only 
how  to  make  such  an  unexpected  number  of  guests  as  comfort 
able  as  possible  during  their  stay. 

"For  my  own  part,  gentlemen,"  said  the  Preceptor-General, 
at  the  close  of  his  remonstrance,  "  should  a  French  army  ever 
come  to  Westbury,  I  promise  them  as  warm  a  reception. as  my 
kitchen  can  afford.  I  shall  open  my  whole  batierie-de-cui.sine 
upon  them.  They  shall  not  have  to  say  that  they  had  no  Eng 
lish  host  to  encounter,  for  they  shall  find  a  host  in  me  at  all 


428  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

events.  As  many  as  are  vegetarians  we  will  regale  with  the 
produce  of  our  garden  ;  those  who  hanker  after  the  flesh-pots 
shall  have  the  best  mutton  from  yonder  downs  ;  we  will  meet 
them  with  our  spits  and  pot-hooks ;  and  if  they  come  in  Sep 
tember,  when  the  woods  are  pleasant  to  stroll  in,  why  we  will 
invite  them  to  come  with  us  and  hear  a  -lecture  on  the  laws  and 
institutions  of  England." 

Had  everything  gone  on  smoothly  in  this  extraordinary  col 
lege,  Mr.  Medlicott  would  probably  have  got  tired  of  his  posi 
tion  sooner  than  he  did ;  but  although  there  never  assembled 
round  a  table  a  weaker-headed  set  of  men  than  the  board  of  di 
rectors  consisted  of,  -their  imbecilities  were  sufficiently  diversified 
to  create  innumerable  disputes  among  them,  which  kept  the 
Preceptor-General,  who  was  a  member  ex  officio,  effectually  from 
falling  asleep.  They  quarrelled  about  religion  among  other 
things,  the  first  bone  of  contention  being  the  erection  of  a  sort 
of  pulpit  for  the  public  remonstrances,  which  gave  them  some 
resemblance  to  sermons,  particularly  as  Mr.  Medlicott  had  fallen 
much  of  late  into  a  drawling  mode  of  delivery  that  savoured 
more  of  the  clerical  profession  than  any  other.  Some  members 
of  the  board  were  in  favour  of  his  actually  taking  orders,  and 
pressed  that  step  upon  him.  Others,  including  the  Quakers,  de 
clared  they  would  retire  from  the  institution  if  he  did.  Com 
promises  took  place  upon  these  several  points.  The  pulpit  gave 
place  to  an  elevated  platform,  or  dais  ;  and  instead  of  becoming 
a  doctor  of  divinity,  Mr.  Medlicott  repaired  to  his  university  and 
got  himself  dubbed  a  doctor  of  laws.  He  was  thenceforward 
styled  in  his  prospectuses  Reuben  Medlicott,  Esq.,  LL.D.,  late 
member  of  Parliament  for  the  city  of  Chichester,  with  several  el 
ccteras  appended  ;  and  as  it  was  very  soon  discovered  by  his 
friends  and  his  pupils  that  it  tickled  his  ear  to  be  addressed  by 
the  name  of  Doctor,  he  got  doctoring  enough  from  everybody 
about  him,  particularly  from  the  alumni. 

He  had  been  about  two  years  at  the  head  of  this  odd  insti 
tution,  when  he  was  summoned  to  his  native  city  upon  a  no  Jess 
melancholy  occasion  than  to  pay  the  last  honours  to  his  father, 
who  died  after  a  short  and  rather  sudden  illness,  in  the  fulness 
of  years,  leaving  behind  him  many  friends  who  sincerely  re 
spected  and  loved  him,  and  the  well-earned  reputation  of  one  of 
the  most  honest  and  single-minded  men  in  the  Church.  The 
Vicar  had  been  an  affectionate  and  faithful  shepherd  for  nearly 
half  a  century  to  his  little  flock  at  Underwood ;  and  had  par- 


OR,  THE  COMING  MAN.  429 

ticularly  endeared  himself  to  them  by  his  refusal  to  accept  the 
Crown  living,  and  by  also  subsequently  declining  to  change  his 
vicarage  for  one  or  two  better  things  which  he  might  have  had 
in  the  diocese  of  Shrewsbury.  He  always  said  he  was  too  old 
to  move,  and  sometimes  appealed  to  Sirach,  who  seemed  to  ex 
press  by  his  croak  his  unwillingness  to  see  a  iievv  incumbent.  ^ 

When  Reuben  reached  Underwood,  he  found  his  mother  in 
a  very  nervous  state,  and  gladly  accepted  the  kind  offer  of  a  far 
mer  in  the  neighbourhood  to  receive  her  into  his  house,  until 
she  was  strong  enough  to  bear  removal  to  "Westbury.  She  left 
Underwood  for  this  temporary  residence  on  the  evening  of  her 
son's  arrival  there. 

A  numerous  train  of  friends  attended  the  excellent  Vicar's  fu 
neral,  but  some  of  our  own  old  acquaintances  were  not  among  the 
number.  Mr.  Oklport,  the  jovial  canon,  was  no  more  ;  and  Mr. 
Cox,  although  still  living,  was  bowed  down  by  the  multitude  of 
years  and  disorders,  and  devoutly  waiting  for  that  last  and  only 
universal  remedy,  which  "to  prepared  appetites"  (as  Sir  Thomas 
Browne  beautifully  expresses  it)  "is  nectar,  and  a  pleasant  po 
tion  of  immortality."  The  last  time  Reuben  ever  saw  Mr.  Pig- 
widgeon,  the  apothecary,  was  at  the  dismal  breakfast  upon  this 
occasion.  He  had  passed  his  seventieth  year,  was  bent  almost 
double,  and  had  only  two  thin  white  locks  of  hair  left,  one  over 
each  temple :  but  his  appetite  was  anything  but  decrepit,  and 
not  until  he  had  satisfied  its  cravings,  on  pretence  of  keeping 
out  the  cold  air,  did  he  indulge  his  sorrow  for  his  departed 
friend.  To  do  the  apothecary  justice,  he  spoke  with  warmth 
and  sincerity,  when  he  did  speak  ;  not  omitting  the  praise  of  the 
Vicar's  hospitality,  among  his  numerous  other  virtues,  but 
frankly  confessing  how  much  of  it  he  had  enjoyed  himself,  and 
how  unlikely  it  was  he  should  ever  see  such  a  hospitable  vicar  of 
Underwood  again.  Mr.  Medlicott  was  attentive  and  good-na 
tured  to  the  old  man,  who  no  longer  cherished  any  hostile  sen 
timents  towards  Mr.  Medlicott ;  in  fact,  the  comparative  success 
of  his  own  son  in  the  world  had  completely  extinguished  the 
paltry  little  sorenesses,  chiefly  arising  from  wounded  paternal 
pride,  which  had  all  along  been  at  the  bottom  of  his  grudge  to 
Reuben. 

The  Vicar  fell  with  the  leaf.  It  was  a  chill  damp  day,  to 
wards  the  close  of  October,  when  his  remains  were  committed 
to  the  earth,  within  a  dozen  yards  of  the  spot  whose  tillage  had 
been  his  innocent  amusement  for  forty  years. 


130  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

"  The  last  words  I  ever  heard  Lira  speak,"  said  the  old  sex 
ton,  talking  with  Reuben  in  that  melancholy  deserted  garden, 
when  the  ceremony  was  over, — "he  was  standing  just  where 
you  are  standing  at  this  moment, — were  these:  'Thomas,' he 
said,  '  you  and  1  cultivate  the  same  ground,  but  you  are  the  su 
perior  gardener ;  for  what  you  sow  will  be  immortal,  and  will 
blossom  hereafter  in  heaven.'  Ilis  reverence  had  a  cough  upon 
him  at  the  time ;  you  see  he  never  finished  planting  out  those 
young  cabbages." 

Reuben  looked,  and  saw  a  bed  recently  dug,  but  only  par 
tially  planted.  A  little  bundle  of  the  plants  that  remained  unset 
was  lying  on  the  walk  almost  at  his  feet,  and  against  the  trunk 
of  the  pear-tree,  mentioned  before  in  this  history,  a  spade  was 
leaning ;  telling  the  stoiy  most  distinctly  of  the  abrupt  sum 
mons  which  his  father  had  received. 

Men  of  sterner  nature  than  Mr.  Medlicott's  would  have  been 
moved  by  this  ;  he  was  powerfully  affected,  and  turned  away  to 
indulge  his  grief  in  solitude.  How  neglected,  how  bleak,  how 
utterly  forlorn  was  all  that  once  exquisitely  cultivated  rood  of 
earth,  associated  in  Reuben's  mind  with  so  many  happy  days  of 
his  childhood,  with  so  many  eventful  periods  of  his  maturer  years, 
with  the  chief  objects  of  his  love  and  honour,  with  his  early 
studies,  and  the  recollection  of  all.  he  had  imagined  that  never 
was  realised,  and  all  he  had  hoped  that  never  was  fulfilled  ? 
"Everything  to  both  his  eye  and  his  heart  was  inexpressibly  sad. 
A  cold  mist  hung  in  the  perfectly  still  air  ;  the  )rellow  leaves  were 
dropping  listlessly  to  the  ground  ;  those  of  the  old  walnut-tree 
covered  the  rustic  table  that  stood  beneath  it.  The  last  time 
Reuben  had  ever  sat  with  his  father  at  thftt  table  was  the  day  of 
his  return  for  Chichester,  and  the  birth  of  his  son.  There  were 
birds,  but  they  were  silent ;  the  walks  wont  to  be  so  trim  were 
grass-grown  in  many  places ;  here  and  there  they  were  strewn 
with  fallen  apples,  over  which  the  slugs  crawled  ;  the  last  crop 
of  peas  had  come  to  maturity  in  vain,  the  pods  were  swollen  and 
growing  brown, — the  straw  should  have  been  removed  a  week 
before. 

.Returning  to  the  place  where  he  had  talked  with  the  sexton, 
Reuben  found  him  engaged  in  setting  the  remainder  of  the  plants, 
which,  though  they  had  lain  there  a  fortnight,  had  the  principle 
of  vegetation  still  in  them.  It  was  an  instinct  of  affection  and 
duty  in  the  old  man  that  impelled  him  to  undertake  this  little 
otiioe ;  he  felt  himself  a  sort  of  executor  in  a  matter  of  this  kind 
of  the  last  unaccomplished  purpose  of  his  deceased  master. 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  431 

Sirach  was  perched  in  the  fork  of  the  pear-tree,  and  seemed 
to  be  intently  watching  what  the  sexton  was  doing,  as  if  it  was 
incumbent  on  him,  also,  to  see  the  intentions  of  the  late  Vicar 
carried  out.  Upon  Reuben's  approach  he  spread  his  wings,  and 
with  a  low  shuffling  flight  close  to  the  ground  penetrated  the 
line  of  yews,  and  presently  was  heard  mournfully  croaking  in  the 
churchyard. 

Reuben  moved  slowly  to  tho  door  in  the  hedge.  The  sexton 
followed  and  opened  it  for  him.  He  loved  the  old  man  for  loving 
his  father,  thanked  him  cordially,  and,  bidding  him  an  affectionate 
adieu,  went  to  mingle  his  tears  with  his  mother's  at  the  neigh 
bouring  farm-house.  His  mother  was  never  destined  to  see 
Underwood  more  ;  but  it  was  Reuben's  lot  to  visit  it  again  after 
many  years. 


CHAPTER    III. 

PEOGEESS   OF   MENTAL   INFIEMITT. 

THE  death  of  the  worthy  Vicar  was  fraught  with  results  very 
little  to  have  been  expected  from  it.  Our  Protean  hero  was  now 
upon  the  verge  of  that  curious  religious  metamorphosis  to  which 
he  had  been  tending  for  many  years,  and  to  wliich  his  grand 
father  had  always  predicted  he  would  come  at  last. 

He  had,  indeed,  exhibited  through  his  motley  life  (though 
not  in  so  prominent  a  manner  as  to  arrest  the  attention  of  the 
public)  no  less  infirmity  of  purpose  in-  spiritual  than  in  seculai 
concerns.  We  saw  him  when  a  mere  stripling  almost  turning 
his  back  upon  the  Church  of  England,  because  his  grandfathei 
had  obtained  a  bishopric  in  a  manner  of  which  he  disapproved, 
and  he  never  entered  again  into  very  cordial  relations  with  her. 
This  estrangement  was,  of  course,  increased  by  his  subsequent 
close  connections  with  the  Society  of  Friends,  above  all  by  his 
marriage  with  a  member  of  that  persuasion.  However,  his  wife's 
religious  zeal  was  far  enough  below  that  degree  of  heat  which 
impels  people  to  make  proselytes  ;  had  it  reached  that  boiling- 
pointvslie  would  never  have  left  the  Meeting  to  follow  Reuben 
through  the  world;  neither,  in  all  probability,  did  the  Harveys 
and  Wilsons  lay  themselves  out  deliberately  to  convert  him,  for 
if  they  had  done  so,  it  is  unlikely  they  would  have  failed  in 


432  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  j 

that  more  than  in  their  other  practices  upon  his  weakness. 
lie  was  certainly  not  entangled  doctrinally  with  the  Quakers 
ivhen  he  first  went  to  America,  for  we  have  seen  that  ha  was  so 
much  taken  with  the  creed  of  the  Mormonitesas  to  have  actually 
felt  some  disposition  to  attach  himself  to  their  wild  community ; 
and  from  the  time  of  his  return  to  England  to  the  present  period, 
it  would  not  have  been  easy  to  determine  to  what  denomination 
of  Christians  he  belonged,  for  though  he  never  sat  "  in  the  seat 
of  the  scorners,"  he  frequented  no  particular  place  of  worship, 
but  roved  hither  and  thither,  not  so  much  blown  about  by  the 
winds  of  divers  doctrines,  as  led  to  and  fro  by  the  fame  of 
preachers  noted  for  their  eloquence,  whenever  such  preachers 
were  to  be  heard. 

Perhaps,  however,  he  would  never  have  openly  revolted  from 
the  Church  of  England  if  certain  incidents  that  occurred  after  his 
father's  death,  and  in  consequence  of  that  event,  had  not  involved 
him  in  warm  disputes  about  ecclesiastical  matters.  There  were 
charges  for  dilapidations  against  the  Vicar's  representatives, 
which  Reuben  considered  unjust  and  even  monstrous ;  but  wheth 
er  they  were  unjust  or  not,  he  had  no  alternative  but  to  submit 
to  them,  or  risk  the  expenses  and  hazards  of  litigation  in  the 
spiritual  courts.  His  old  friend,  Mr.  Fox,  the  Proctor,  strongly 
recommended  resistance,  and  by  his  advice  Doctor  Medlicott  did 
resist,  and  had  eventually  to  pay  upwards  of  three  hundred 
pounds  above  the  demand  for  dilapidations,  which  did  not 
amount  to  a  hundred  and  fifty.  This  made  him  sore  enough; 
but  another  quarrel,  in  which  he  was  involved  at  the  same  time 
by  his  mother,  put  him  in  still  worse  temper  with  the  Church 
and  its  officers. 

Like  many  other  ladies,  Mrs.  Medlicott  had .  been  somewhat 
blind  to  the  virtues  of  her  spouse  during  his  life-time ;  and  as  to 
talents  she  never  allowed  that  he  possessed  any  at  all ;  but  no 
sooner  was  he  taken  from  her,  than  her  heart  grew  soft,  her  eyes 
were  opened,  and  she  discovered  that  she  had  been  wedded  for 
nearly  forty  years  to  a  man  of  the  rarest  merits  of  every  kind. 
In  short,  she  thought  it  incumbent  on  her  to  indite  an  epitaph 
on  her  deceased  husband,  and  in  the  act  of  composing  it,  excel 
lencies  jf  all  kinds  sprung  up  under  her  pen,  with  a  profusion 
that  was  perfectly  astonishing.  Reuben  extolled  her  production 
with  becoming  filial  enthusiasm,  and  offered  a  prize  to  his  schol 
ars  for  the  best  Latin  and  Greek  translations  of  it.  Two  tolera 
ble  versions  were  produced ;  but  what  was  the  use  of  inscrip- 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAST.  433 

tions  ?  On  what  were  they  to  be  inscribed  ?  Epitaphs  in  general 
are  made  for  monuments,  but  in  the  present  instance  the  monu 
ment  had  to  be  made  for  the  epitaph.  Mrs.  Medlicott,  encour 
aged  by  her  son,  and  assisted  by  the  subscriptions  of  her  sister, 
and  many  other  friends  of  her  late  husband,  employed  an  emi 
nent  sculptor  to  express  her  high-flown  ideas  in  marble ;  and 
when  the  work  'was  executed,  she  wrote  in  a  most  ostentatious 
strain  to  the  authorities  of  the  cathedral  of  Chichester,  proposing 
to  do  them  the  honour  of  having  it  erected  there.  She  received 
an  answer  in  a  very  different  style,  the  most  business-like  con 
ceivable,  inclosing  a  scale  of  the  fees  payable  upon  the  several 
descriptions  of  monuments,  and  naming  the  specific  charge  for 
that  which  she  proposed  to  erect. 

"  All  England  shall  hear  of  this,"  vowed  Doctor  Medlicott, 
who  had  received  upon  the  same  day  disagreeable  tidings  of  the 
dilapidation  suit ;  and  all  England  did  hear  of  it,  for  he  threw 
aside  all  other  business  for  the  time,  and  not  only  attacked  the 
Dean  and  Chapter  of  Chichester,  but  all  the  deans  and  chapters 
in  the  kingdom,  denouncing  them  in  newspapers,  belabouring 
them  in  pamphlets,  and  presenting  petitions  of  interminable 
length  against  them  to  both  houses  of  Parliament ;  hashing  up 
his  other  grievances  with  that  of  the  monument,  and  not  even 
sparing  the  doctrines  and  liturgies  of  the  Church  in  the  unreason 
ing  violence  of  his  resentments.  Among  his  other  extravagan 
cies,  he  had  the  extreme  folly  to  prefix  to  one  of  his  libels  on  the 
deans  and  chapters  an  engraving  of  the  proposed  mausoleum  to 
bis  father,  with  the  elegy  composed  by  his  mother,  and  its  trans 
lations  into  the  learned  languages  by  his  own  wonderful  scholars. 
It  was  in  the  same  pamphlet  that  he  entered  his  grand  protest 
against  the  Established  Church,  and  gave  the  first  intimation  of 
his  resolution  to  take  signal  vengeance  upon  her  for  her  manifold 
iniquities,  by  formally  withdrawing  himself  and  his  family  from 
her  pale. 

If  the  Church  of  England  had  at  this  period  been  as  angry 
with  Doctor  Medlicott  as  he  was  with  the  Church,  and,  above  all, 
if  she  had  gone  the  length  of  excommunicating  him  with  bell, 
book,  and  candle  for  his  undutiful  behaviour  towards  her,  she 
would  have  just  taken  the  very  course  that  would  have  delighted 
him  most,  for  his  passion  for  notoriety  was  now  an  incurable  dis 
ease.  But  that  venerable  establishment  was  not  so  accommo 
dating  to  his  foibles.  The  Vicar's  successor  in  the  parish  of  Un 
derwood  quiet- y  received  the  sum  for  dilapidations  which  the  law 


484  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  \ 

decreed  in  his  favour ;  the  Proctor  and  his  brother  officers  pock 
eted  their  fees  and  costs  with  the  same  coolness :  the  Dean  of 
Chichester  adhered  to  the  usages  of  the  cathedral  relative  to  mon 
uments  ;  and,  unless  laughter  is  a  passion,  nobody  (out  of  the 
circle  of  his  own  fanatical  followers)  was  seriously  disturbed  by 
all  that  Doctor  Medlicott  wrote  and  stormed  about  the  church 
and  his  parents,  his  intolerable  grievances  and  his  terrible  resolu 
tions. 

The  resolution  he  took  was  formally  to  join  the  Quakers,  and 
he  only  suspended  the  execution  of  this  great  design  for  an  op 
portunity  of  making  the  change  in  the  most  public  and  conspicu 
ous  manner  at  the  next  annual  meeting  of  the  Society  in  the 
month  of  May.  His  friend  Primrose,  now  the  venerable  arch 
deacon  of  Shrewsbury,  wrote  him  the  kindest  letter  of  remon 
strance,  in  the  hopes  of  restraining  him  from  the  commission  of 
this  incredible  extravagance ;  but  his  interposition  was  unavail 
ing,  and  only  brought  upon  the  archdeacons  the  same  description 
of  ill-usage  which  the  deans  had  already  experienced. 

Before  the  merry  month  of  May  came,  Doctor  Medlicott  had 
ceased  to  be  the  head  of  the  Westbury  institution,  and  that  nota 
ble  institution  itself  had  ceased  to  exjst.  Tt  was  not  its  absurdi 
ties  that  destroyed  it,  for  it  was  established  to  carry  out  the 
views  of  the  most  absurd  people  upon  earth,  and  its  folly  was 
really  the  only  element  of  success  it  contained.  The  circum 
stances  are  only  worth  relating  because  they  arose  from  that 
amiable  trait  in  Mr.  Medlicott's  character  which  we  have  already 
noticed  more  than  once,  the  strength  of  his  private  attachments 
and  his  vivid  recollection  of  old  associations  and  old  times.  We 
have  related  how  comfortably  Doctor  Page  was  settled  at  West- 
bury,  with  a  salary,  apartments,  and  other  advantages,  as  resi 
dent  physician  and  professor  of  homoeopathy  to  the  institution. 
Whether  this  was  a  job,  or  not,  it  certainly  looked  very  like  one. 
When  old  Mrs.  Medlicott,  after  the  Vicar's  decease,  came  to  live 
with  her  son,  it  was  so  natural  an  arrangement  that  no  difficulty 
was  made  about  it  in  the  first  instance  •,  at  the  same  time  it  was 
another  encroachment,  and  the  subject  no  doubt  of  unpleasant 
remarks  in  private.  The  old  lady  ought  to  have  kept  herself  as 
quiet  as  possible  under  'the  circumstances;  but  she  was  not  that 
sort  of  woman ;  she  soon  made  herself  obnoxious  to  her  son's 
assistants  by  tampering  with  the  heads  of  the  boys,  and  objecting 
to  regulations  which  were  not  sufficiently  preposterous  to  please 
her.  But  this  was  not  the  worst :  ehe  persuaded  Reuben  that 


OK,  THE   COMENTG  MAN.  435 

lie  wanted  a  register,  and  actua.ly  sent  to  Chichester  for  one  of 
his  remaining  godsons  to  fill  that  office.  There  was  a  great  bat 
tle  about  this  at  the  Board,  but  Friend  Harvey  bore  down  all 
resistance,  and  by  a  narrow. majority  a  small  salary  was  voted  to 
the  godson.  This  transaction  wore  unquestionably  an  ugly  as 
pect  ;  yet  if  the  system  had  stopped  here  there  would  probably 
have  been  no  serious  outcry;  but  just  at  the  same  moment  it 
happened  that  a  professor  of  French  was  wanting.  A  professor 
was  advertised  for;  he  must  be  a  gentleman,  he  must  be  a  Pari 
sian,  and  the  advertisement  was  not  long  unanswered. 

Doctor  Medlicott  was  sitting  with  his  wife  and  mother,  his 
register  and  physician,  at  breakfast,  when  Dorothy,  now  a  cor 
pulent  dame  of  forty,  but  still  dressed  in  all  the  colours  of  the 
rainbow,  entered  with  a  card  in  her  hand  for  the  Preceptor- 
General.  The  card  bore  the  address  of  "  M.  Adolphe  Beauvoisin, 
Chevalier  de  la  Legion  d'Hoimeur,  Professeur  des  Langues  Mo 
dernes,  &c.,  &c." 

"  This  is  wonderful !"  cried  the  head  of  the  college,  rising  : 
"  I  had  almost  forgotten  my  old  friend's  existence.  What  a 
Proteus  he  is  !  what  a  strange  chameleon  !  Dorothea,  show  in 
the  Chevalier." 

Adolphe  was  now  a  meagre,  sharp-visaged  old  fellow  :  he 
entered  the  room  with  twenty  bows  and  grimaces,  his  seedy 
black  coat  buttoned  up  to  his  chin,  and  another  old  parapluie 
under  his  arm ;  it  was  manifest  he  had  not  thriven  on  his  versa 
tility,  as  well  as  other  people.  The  Chevalier,  as  he  styled  him 
self,  looked  very  like  a  man  who  was  at  his  last  shift,  or  on  his 
last  legs ;  rmich  in  the  state  of  the  unfortunate  fox  in  the  fable, 
hunted  clown  in  spite  of  all  his  tricks,  while  his-  companion  the 
cat,  who  had  but  the  one  gift  of  climbing  a  tree,  escaped  scot- 
free  by  its  timely  exercise.  Of  course  he  had  a  theory,  cut  and 
dry,  as  usual,  to  account  for  the  new  character  in  which  he  now 
made  his  appearance.  He  had  discovered  his  true  talent  at  last ; 
nor  did  he  seem  in  the  least  conscious  what  a  melancholy  thing 
it  is  to  make  that  important  discovery  at  sixty.  On  the  contrary, 
he  extolled  his  own  sagacity  highly ;  and  old  Mrs.  Medlicott,  on 
being  appealed  to  by  her  son,  scrutinised  his  organ  of  language, 
and  pronounced  it  admirably  developed  ;  at  the  same  time  ascer 
taining  the  distressing  fact  that  the  accomplished  Chevalier  had 
no  shirt. 

Reuben  first  gave  the  impudent  pretender  his  breakfast ;  then 
he  supplied  the  defects  of  his  wardrobe ;  and  thirdly,  he  pro- 


436  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  ) 

/noted  him  to  the  vacant  professorship,  introducing  him  to  the 
students  that  very  day  at  dinner,  with  an  elaborate  eulogy  on 
his  talents,  and  a  touching  allusion  to  the  circumstances  of  their 
original  acquaintance.  Before  the  subject  of  these  encomiums 
was  a  week  in  his  situation,  his  kind  and  generous  patron  had 
to  remonstrate  with  him  seriously  for  teaching  the  alumni 
to  smoke ;  and  before  the  expiration  of  a  month,  it  was  ascer 
tained  that  he  also  gave  private  lessons  to  the  senior  students  in 
that  practical  branch  of  the  science  of  probabilities  commonly 
called  gaming.  This  was  too  grave  a  matter  to  be  passed  over 
even  with  the  dismissal  of  the  offender.  Mr.  Medlicott  was  for 
mally  called  to  account  for  making  the  appointment,  and  the 
opportunity  was  seized  upon  for  accusing  him  of  having  cor 
ruptly  turned  the  institution  into  a  comfortable  asylum  and  snug 
gery  for  himself,  his  family,  his  relations,  and  friends.  He  made 
a  long  speech  in  his  own  defence,  and  Friend  Harvey  stuck  to 
him  to  the  last ;  but  a  resolution  of  censure  was  passed,  and 
Doctor  Medlicott  threw  up  his  place  in  disgust,  and  removed  his 
family  immediately  to  London. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  LAST  FOLLY  AXD  THE  LAST  SPEECH. 

IT  was  the  first  of  May  (or  Fifth  Month,  as  the  Quaker  almanack 
terms  it),  not  very  long  after  the  break-up  at  Westbury ;  and  a 
large  majority  of  the  disciples  of  Fox  and  Penn  resident  within 
the  sound  of  Bow  bell,  with  many  of  the  same  fraternity  from 
far  beyond  the  reach  of  that  celebrated  tongue  of  Time,  were 
gathered  together  in  Finsbury,  in  an  unusually  crowded  yearly 
meeting.  Upon  one  side  were  arrayed  the  solemn  males  of  the 
community,  upon  the  other  sat  the  formal  females ;  the  separa 
tion  between  them  reminding  one  of  the  original  creation  of  the 
various  species  of  living  things  after  their  sexes  and  kinds ; 
while  the  unjoyous  colouring  that  reigned  (if  colouring  it  could 
be  called  with  propriety)  led  the  spectator  to  congratulate  him 
self  that  the  same  harsh  taste  in  tints  did  not  prevail  at  the  era 
of  the  Creation ;  for  then  had  the  face  of  nature  wanted  its  love 
liest  varieties,  the  rainbow  had  never  spanned  the  sky,  the  pea- 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  437 

cock  spread  his  starry  train,  or  "  the  firmament  glowed  with  liv 
ing  sapphires."  A  Quaker  Iris  would  ill  have  symbolised  the 
vivid  hues  of  Hope  ;  a  Flora  of  the  same  persuasion  would  never 
have  eclipsed  the  glories  of  the  court  of  Solomon. 

It  was  a  favourable  moment  for  studying  the  Society,  had 
you  been  disposed  to  publish  a  little  book  about  them,  of  the 
kind  which  the  French  have  lately  entitled  "  Physiologies."  The 
present  meeting  was  a  sort  of  prim  parliament,  very  fairly  repre 
senting  all  the  varieties  of  Quakerism.  There  were  English 
Quakers,  Scotch  Quakers,  Irish  Quakers,  and  even  Yankee  Qua 
kers.  There  was  the  Quaker  as  brown  as  a  Moor ;  the  Quaker 
as  grey  as  morning ;  the  drab  Quaker ;  the  snuffy  Quaker ;  and 
the  Quaker  as  white  as  snow.  There  was  the  dreary  sort  and 
the  sprightly ;  the  coarse  and  the  cultivated ;  the  mild  and  the 
morose.  You  could  see  where  the  bigoted  hue  was  only  ex 
ternal,  and  where  the  heart  itself  was  drab.  You  saw  the  old 
dry  variety,  and  the  modern  wet  one.  There  was  dismal  devo 
tion  and  cheerful ;  piety  obviously  unaffected,  and  piety  con 
spicuously  assumed.  There  was  no  priest  among  them,  but 
there  were  probably  some  pharisees  and  hypocrites.  It  is  still 
more  certain,  however,  that  there  was  many  a  meek  publican 
and  many  a  good  Samaritan  in  the  throng. 

Observing  the  fair  side  of  the  meeting  particularly,  you  might 
almost  have  classified  the  Quakeresses  by  their  silks.  The  maid 
ens  were  generally  dove-coloured ;  the  mothers  silvery,  fleecy, 
or  bluish-grey  ;  the  grand-dames  olive  and  dun.  The  far-poking 
bonnet  seldom  concealed  a  pretty  face ;  nor  did  the  comeliest 
figures  seem  to  be  those  which  availed  themselves  of  the  un- 
couthest  garbs  to  hide  them.  There  was  not  much  beauty,  per 
haps  ;  but  what  there  was  stood  independently  on  its  personal 
merits,  and  proved  what  sparkling  eyes  will  do  without  other 
brilliants ;  bright  hair,  without  flowers  or  pearls ;  a  beautiful 
arm,  without  a  bracelet ;  and  white  tapering  fingers,  without  a 
ring.  Nor  yet  had  either  the  dove-coloured  damsels,  or  the  ma 
trons  of  silver-grey,  so  utterly  neglected  their  personal  decoration 
as  to  select  the  harshest  materials  for  their  habits,  or  enjoin  upon 
their  milliners  total  inobservance  of  shapes  and  forms ;  on  the 
contrary,  if  there  was  no  clothing  of  wrought  gold,  there  was 
much  raiment  of  elaborate  needlework ;  where  the  tint  was  very 
sad,  the  texture  was  apt  to  be  very  rich ;  and  you  sometimes 
felt  inclined  to  remark  of  piety,  what  the  poet  does  of  ambition, 
that  it  "should  be  mad-3  of  sterner  stuff." 


438  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  | 

It  was  not,  however,  upon  the  female  side  alone  that  these 
symptoms  of  human  weakness  were  to  be  detected.  The  more 
you  attended  to  minutiae  upon  both  sides,  the  more  you  were 
convinced  that,  while  the  founders  of  the  sect  had  triumphed  to 
n  wonderful  extent  over  the  love  of  pomp  and  vanity — even  over 
the  feminine  passion  for  dresa  and  ornament, — the  victory  was 
not  complete ;  nature  was  not  conquered :  you  saw  by  the 
hats  of  many  brims,  the  coats  of  many  cuts,  the  bonnets  of  many 
pokes,  and  the  silks  of  many  a  shade,— that  even  the  Jacobs 
and  Obadiahs  had  their  Mirror  of  Fashion,  and  the  Rebeccas 
and  Ruths  their  modistes. 

Unless  the  observer,  too,  was  much  deceived,  he  'detected  on 
the  present  occasion  a  gloss  upon  the  broadcloth,  a  novelty  in 
the  silks,  and  a  crispness  in  the  cambrics,  which  bespoke  some 
thing  more  than  usually  exciting,  nay  almost  festive,  in  the  sea 
son,  or  the  day.  Although  it  was  one  of  those  annual  gather 
ings,  when  theyjissemble  not  only  from  far  cities  and  countries, 
but  even  from  far  distant  regions  of  the  globe,  to  exchange  looks 
of  kindness,  and  silent  breathings  of  peace  and  good-will, — it 
was  impossible  not  to  conclude,  from  the  crowded  state  of  the 
benches,  the  abundance  of  new  dresses,  and  the  extraordinary 
intentness  of  all  eyes — but  particularly  those  of  the  fair  sex, — 
that  something  was  about  to  happen  out  of  the  usual  course  of 
events  in  the  Quaker  world, 

There  was  evidently  a  greater  throng  than  usual,  for  the 
men  sat  with  their  arms  pinioned  to  their  sides,  and  their  knees 
in  contact ;  while  the  matrons  and  maidens  were  penned  so  close 
together,  that  the  countenances  of  some,  who  were  not  so  un 
worldly  as  the  rest,  exhibited  manifest  tokens  of  chagrin  at  the 
unavoidable  rumpling  of  their  gowns. 

Prominent  among  the  males  were  Friends  Harvey  and  Wil 
son,  particularly  the  former.  Harvey  was  all  brown  ;  Wilson 
was  all  drab.  The  progress  of  time  had  made  Wilson  drier  and 
sourer  and  stiffer  than  ever.  Upon  Harvey,  years  seemed  to 
have  had  the  opposite  effect — increasing  hia  smoothness  and 
briskness.  Although  stock-still,  he  seemed  to  be  all  in  motion  ; 
and  if  you  can  imagine  a  talkative  silence,  it  was  that  which  he 
was  keeping  with  his  lips,  out  of  which  his  tongue  was  continu 
ally  making  little  excursions ;  while  his  eyes  rolled  about  with 
the  most  fidgety  anxiety,  as  if  they  expected  to  see  an  angel 
come  down  from  heaven,  or  something  of  that  sort.  Harvey 
was  now  a  sexagenarian,  and  sat  with  the  reverend  elder?  of  the 


OR,  THE   COMING  MAN.  439 

meeting.  Behind  him  were  his  sons,  now  men  of  ripe  ige,  still 
not  easy  to  be  known  asunder,  except  by  the  habit,  in  which 
one  of  them  kindly  persevered,  of  keeping  his  mouth  wide  open, 
to  give  the  flies  a  hospitable  reception. 

The  cause  of  this  extraordinary  stir  in  so  calm  a  community 
was  not  very  long  a  secret.  Presently,  as  if  by  one  accord,  or 
by  a  simultaneous  movement  of  some  spirit,  peradventure  only 
that  of  curiosity,  all  eyes  were  turned  to  one  point,  and  that  point 
was  the  door  of  the  Meeting-house.  It  opened  and  opened  again, 
but  nothing  satisfactory  made  its  appearance,  only  grim  old  Isaac 
Hopkins,  the  rich  brewer,  or  one  of  the  dismal  pieces  of  female 
antiquity  which  we  may  recollect  having  formerly  seen  at  the 
Meeting  in  Cavendish  Square. 

At  length,  however,  came  the  desire  of  all  eyes.  Harvey's 
seemed  to  be  starting  from  their  sockets.  The  mouth  of  Jonas 
opened  to  its  extreme  width.  The  silks  rustled  ;  the  crisp  muslins 
rose  and  fell  over  the  agitated  bosoms.  "With  a  slow,  measured, 
solemn,  and  not  unstudied  step,  in  strict  but  not  painfully  rigid 
Quakerly  attire,  carrying  his  new  glossy  broad-leaved  white  hat 
in  his  hand,  And  wearing  in  his  button -hole  a  bouquet  of  the 
gravest  flowers  of  the  season,  entered  a  tall  portly  man,  but  with 
faded  cheek,  and  past  the  meridian  of  his  days,  showing  an 
evident  struggle  in  every  feature  between  the  desire  to  appear 
meek  and  subdued,  as  became  a  novice,  and  the  conceited  con 
sciousness  that  he  was  the  admired  of  all  beholders.  A  more 
severe  costume  might  perhaps  have  disguised  Reuben  Medlicott 
for  a  few  moments,  but  the  deviation  from  his  ordinary  dress  for 
many  years  was  not  considerable :  and  the  eternal  bouquet, 
emblem  of  his  undying  coxcombry,  was  sufficient  of  itself  to  estab 
lish  his  identity.  His  wife  and  children,  however,  were  there  to 
vouch  him,  and  he  wanted  vouchers.  His  wife  crept  beside  him, 
as  conscious  of  being  disregarded  and  unwelcomed,  as  her  hus 
band  was  of  being  received  with  rapture.  Mary  had  left  the 
Meeting  to  follow  the  lover  without  a  regret,  and  she  now  returned 
to  it  to  obey  the  husband  without  a  particle  of  enthusiasm.  He 
was  no  proselyte  of  hers ;  no  triumph  was  visible  in  her  deport 
ment  :  on  the  contrary,  had  not  her  poking  bonnet  and  white 
veil  nearly  concealed  her  countenance,  you  might  have  detected 
an  affecting  change  in  its  once  so  radiant  and  joyous  features, 
an  anxious  expression  in  her  eyes,  and  the  traces  of  much  care 
upon  her  brow — the  consequences,  undoubtedly,  of  long  and 
painful  solicitude  for  her  husband's  interests  and  the  fate  of  hia 


440  THE    UNI\  ERSAL    GENIUS  | 

children.  She  was  accompanied  by  three  of  them,  two  girls  in 
their  teens,  .and  Chichester,  also  coming  on  rapidly,  though,  in 
his  full-dress  suit  of  drab,  he  looked  by  no  means  so  fast  a  young 
man  as  when  lie  galloped  about  Hereford  in  scarlet  uniform,  on 
his  cream-coloured  pony. 

Husband  and  wife — the  new  prize  and  the  regained  property 
of  the  Society — separated  when  they  reached  the  centre  of  the 
open  space  that  divided  the  sexes.  •  Friend  Reuben  was  ad 
mitted,  with  every  demonstration  of  mute  greeting,  into  a  place 
that  had  been  carefully  reserved  for  him  between  Harvey  and 
Wilson  ;  while,  on  the  opposite  side,  the  matrons  of  the  sect, 
with  infinitely  less  ardour  and  cordiality,  received  the  poor  down 
cast  Mary  into  their  demure  ranks. 

Mr.  Medlicott  did  not  preach  on  the  first  day  of  his  admission 
into  the  Society  of  Friends.  It  would  have  been  a  variance  with 
their  discipline,  or  he  would  probably  have  done  so.  There  were 
some  of  the  fraternity  who  would  willingly  have  set  all  rules 
aside  upon  so  great  an  occasion,  but  they  were  overruled  by  the 
sterner  members  of  the  body.  The  neophyte,  however,  was  en 
rolled,  in  an  unusually  short  time,  among  what  are  termed 
"  the  acknowledged  ministers  ;"  and  soon  attained  a  melancholy 
eminence  as  the  most  powerful — which  meant  the  longest-winded 
— of  them  all.  Some  of  his  rhapsodies  are  better  recorded  than 
even  Mrs.  Fry's  most  attractive  addresses,  or  even  than  Hannah 
Hopkins's  famous  sermon  on  Daniel  in  the  den  of  lions,  which 
Matthew  Cox  remembered  to  have  heard.  One  of  Reuben's 
outpourings  is  still  considered  by  the  survivors  of  the  Harveys 
and  the  Wilsons  as  having  been,  not  only  the  most  wonderful 
effort  of  eloquence  that  ever  broke  the  silence  of  the  meeting, 
but  as  having  partaken  in  some  measure  of  the  prophetic  strain. 
It  was  a  discourse  in  which,  amid  a  labyrinth  of  metaphorical 
prolixities,  he  introduced  a  highly-wrought  description  of  a  figur 
ative  olive-tree,  that  was  to  be  planted  hereafter  in  the  heart  of 
the  great  metropolis,  under  which  all  the  nations  of  the  earth 
were  to  be  gathered  in  peace  and  amity,  to  celebrate  the  triumphs 
of  knowledge  and  industry,  arts  and  sciences,  concord  and  civili 
sation.  This  is  now  considered,  by  the  faithful  few  in  whose 
memory  he  still  flourishes,  as  a  distinct  and  most  remarkable 
prediction  of  the  Palace  of  Crystal,  and  the  great  event  in  the 
history  of  civilisation  connected  with  that  magic  edifice.  Mr. 
Jonas  Harvey,  whose  shop  and  whose  mouth  are  still  open,  has 
no  doubt  whatsoever  of  the  inspiration  of  his  father's  friend. 


OR,  THE   COMIJSQ  MAK.  441 

While  Mr.  Medlicott  continued  a  Quaker,  he  was  a  thorough 
going  one.  Tie  did  not  quake  by  halves,  but  went  the  whole  hog 
with  the  most  strait-laced,  the  most  broad-brimmed,  and  the  most 
fanatical  of  the  sect.  When  they  sent  their  spiritual  envoys 
abroad,  he  was  always  in  the  commission.  When  ministers  were 
appointed  to  go  from  house  to  house,  "  dealing"  with  perverse 
or  delinquent  brethren, 'Friend  Reuben  was  seldom  omitted  from 
the  number.  These  pious  peregrinations  were  unhappily  from 
the  first  only  too  convenient  to  him  in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view  ; 
but  eventually  they  became  almost  his  only  means  of  subsistence, 
and*he  passed  a  great  part  of  every  year  going  to  and  fro  with 
his  family,  quartering  himself  freely  in  the  snuggest  houses,  and 
paying  for  his  substantial  entertainment  with  a  profusion  of 
vapoury  discourse.  In  fact  he  was  growing  bleak ;  and  it  was 
now  begh.r>ing  to  be  noticed  that  he  no  longer  held  up  his  head 
with  the  self-assurance  which  he  had  hitherto  so  well  preserved, 
as  if  he  hoped  against  hope,  and  held  the  faith  in  himself  un 
shaken.  There  were,  however,  occasionally — even  now — flashes 
of  the  once  wonderful  Reuben,  who  had  given  his  friends  such 
promises  of  success,  and  pledged  himself  to  the  world  for  such 
great  performances.  Now  and  then,  in  some  comfortable  house 
where  he  was  received  with  more  than  ordinary  warmth,  and 
still  listened  to  as  an  oracle,  he  would  pour  himself  out  at  dinner, 
or  more  frequently  at  the  tea-table,  with  all  his  characteristic 
exuberance  of  metaphor,  allusion,  quotation,  and  anecdote,  with 
no  drift  and  to  no  end.  But  then  again  he  would  collapse  for 
weeks  into  a  state  OL  almost  stupidity,  as  if  he  had  talked  him 
self  down  and  had  need  of  repose  and  refreshment  before  he  was 
able  to  commence  again. 

Often  at  this  period  would  his  family  in  London  have  wanted 
bread,  if  the  Primroses  and  the  Harvey  family  had  not  been  very 
kind  to  them.  His  wife  did  not  long  survive  her  return  to  her 
old  communion.  Setting  out  upon  one  occasion  to  attend  a 
quarterly  meeting  in  the  North  of  England,  to  which  he  had  re 
ceived  an  invitation  from  some  enthusiastic  friends,  he  left  Mary 
behind  him  laboring  under  what  seemed  a  slight  indisposition. 
It  turned  rapidly  to  a  fatal  illness.  On  his  return  to  town  he 
found  himself  a  desolate  and  dreary  widower. 

In  three  months  after  this  event  he  looked  ten  years  older. 
Now,  for  the  first  time  in  all  his  life,  to  speak  was  visibly  a  la 
bor  to  him.  He  was  the  eloquent  preacher  and  powerful  minis 
ter  no  more ;  and  when  he  was  no  longer  actively  serviceable  to 
19* 


442  THE    UNIVERSAL    GENIUS  J 

the  Meeting,  the  Meeting  naturally  ceased  to  employ  and  honor 
.ttim  as  before. 

He  was  now  advised  to  leave  England  for  soine  time,  and,  in 
change  of  scene  and  of  climate,  to  seek  the  repair  of  his  spirits 
and  his  health.  While  he  was  hesitating  what  to  do,  the  Socie 
ty  of  Friends  in  London  were  on  the  point  of  sending  out  a  few 
of  their  most  distinguished  members  to  represent  them  at  the  an 
nual  meeting  in  Pennsylvania.  Reuben  was  most  anxious  to  be 
one  of  the  mission  ;  but  he  was  not  among  the  chosen,  which  so 
offended  and  mortified  him,  that  he  abruptly  left  the  Society,  and 
was  seen  the  next  day  in  the  streets  of  London  wearing  hi»  old 
Babylonish  garments. 

Not  even  this  could  alienate  the  ever-devoted  Harvey.  He 
took  one  of  Mr.  Medlicott's  daughters  to  live  in  his  house.  Mr. 
Primrose  undertook  the  maintenance  and  education  of  the  other. 
A  subscription  was  raised  to  place  Chichester  at  a  public  school. 
The  unfortunate  father  retired,  with  his  aged  mother,  to  the 
neighborhood  of  Hackney,  where  he  tried  to  make  out  a  liveli 
hood  by  re-editing  his  travels  and  collecting  those  miscellaneous 
essays  of  which  we  have  given  the  reader  a  specimen.  When 
this  failed,  he  published  the  prospectus  of  a  course  of  lectures  on 
mesmerism  and  other  kindred  quackeries ;  but  before  the  day 
came  for  the  first  exhibition,  he  was  seized  with  a  partial  paraly 
sis  of  his  limbs,  and  continued  a  wretched  invalid,  generally 
creeping  about  London  to  the  close  of  his  unprofitable,  yet  ex 
emplary,  life. 

A  very  short  time  since,  two  students  of  the  same  college 
where  Reuben  Medlicott  received  his  university  education,  saun 
tering  one  fine  evening  on  the  banks  of  their  famous  stream,  ob 
served  a  melancholy  man,  with  a  frame  broken  down  more  by 
grief  and  malady  than  by  years,  his  cheek  hollow,  his  eye  dim, 
and  his  lip  quivering,  moving  feebly  beneath  the  willows.  Some 
thing  intellectual  in  his  countenance,  faded  and  worn  as  it  was, 
together  with  an  air  of  distinction  about  him,  the  remains  of  for 
mer  consequence,  whether  real  or  imaginary,  excited  their  curi 
osity  and  tempted  them  to  address  him.  Feebly,  but  politely, 
he  received  and  even  encouraged  their  advances,  evidently  pleased 
to  talk  and  perhaps  flattered  by  their  willingness  to  listen.  He 
inquired  about  their  studies,  then  spoke  about  his  own  formerly ; 
began  by  relating  his  college  recollections,  and  at  length  pro 
ceeded  to  unfold  the  history  of  his  life.  He  surprised  them  by 
the  abundance  of  his  knowledge!  -f  many  subjects,  and  even  pro- 


OR,  THE   COMING   MAN.  443 

fessions ;  delighted  them  by  the  variety  and  often  the  brilliancy 
of  his  language ;  perplexed  them  by  the  extent  of  his  experiences 
as  a  lawyer,  an  author,  a  traveller,  a  politician,  a  divine.  They 
marvelled,  as  he  talked,  who  the  man  could  be  ;  seemingly  pos 
sessing  every  talent  and  all  accomplishments,  yet  wandering  there 
forlorn,  needy,  and  unknown.  The  mood  of  his  narration 
changed  often  ;  now  it  was  calm,  now  excited,  but  most  frequent 
ly  it  was  in  a  tone  of  deep  pathos,  as  if  there  was  always  some 
regret  uppermost,  some  painful  emotion  even  when  he  recalled 
his  triumphs.  At  length  he  stopped  suddenly  in  his  tale,  and, 
leaning  on  his  staff,  regarded  his  hearers  earnestly,  and  bade 
them  mark  his  counsel,  for  it  was  the  province  of  age  to  instruct 
youth. 

"  I  have  excited  your  admiration,  young  men,"  he  said,  "  while 
I  only  merit  your  compassion.  You  see  in  me  a  signal  example 
of  what  little  is  to  be  clone  in  this  busy  world,  by  much  know 
ledge,  much  talent,  much  ambition,  nay,  even  by  much  activity, 
without  singleness  of  aim  and  steadiness  of  purpose.  For  want 
of  these  two  undazzling  qualities,  my  life  has  been  a  broken 
promise  and  a  perpetual  disappointment.  My  views  also  were 
too  exalted.  I  aimed  too  high  and  overshot  the  mark.  Like 
Percy's,  my  heart  was  great,  too  great ;  and  Harry's  farewell 
may  be  my  soliloquy  : — 

"Ill-weaved  ambition,  how  much  art  thou  shrunk  ! 
When  that  this  body  did  contain  a  spirit, 
A  kingdom  for  it  was  too  small  a  bound, 
But  now  two  paces  of  the  vilest  earth 
Will  soon  be  room  enough." 

A  tear  rolled  down  the  old  man's  hollow  cheek  when  he 
came  to  the  last  words  of  the  quotation.  The  young  men  were 
greatly  affected,  and  waited  in  respectful  silence  for  him  to  re 
sume  his  discourse ;  but  he  broke  it  off  abruptly,  with  an  ejacu 
lation  in  so  low  a  tone  that  it  scarcely  reached  the  ear.  "  Alas," 
he  sighed,  "what  I  might  have  been!" 

Not  many  weeks  later  the  same  old  man  was  seen  in  one  of 
the  green  lanes  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Chichester.  He  took 
up  his  abode  as  a  lodger  in  a  small  cottage,  from  which  he  only 
removed  to  lie  in  the  same  grave  with  his  father  in  the  quiet 
churchyard  of  Underwood,  where  an  aged  raven,  hopping  from 
an  adjoining  garden  through  a  stately  row  of  yews,  croaked  his 
requiem. 

THE    END. 


